Power Over Me
by Jaffee Leeds
Summary: The Labyrinth is dying because Jareth has given up. When Sarah sends her and Jareth's daughter into the Labyrinth, can Emily seperate her dislike of the Goblin King enough to save the innocents under his rule? Or will he change her mind otherwise? R
1. Princess of the Labyrinth

Disclaimer: I don't own nothing!

_**Princess of the Labyrinth **_

_**By**_

_**Jaffee Leeds**_

Mom always hated it when it rained. Not only rain, but thunder and lighting, especially in the summer. Heat lighting without rain scared her the most and I never knew what to do with her when she ran around the house closing and locking windows. It was as if the rain brought some fearful ghost with it that filled her with terror. She would pull me close and tell me not to be afraid, but she was really telling herself. I was never afraid of storms.

For all this my mother is a strong woman, independent and bold. I have seen her stand up to the meanest, nastiest people, men and women and come out of it the winner. She told me that she had learned a hard lesson that made her strong, something she would never forget. Although she never said exactly what this lesson was I could see that it reached deep into her core and her eyes flashed when she spoke of it. She is beautiful in those moments, her gaze seeing things beyond me.

I inherited this strength from her, but by some perverse way of rebellious youth I found myself fighting against the things my mother feared and loved. I reveled in the storms and during our greatest arguments I would stand in the yard, the wind whipping my hair and the rain drenching my clothes. I laughed and danced like a mad thing just to show her that while she was strong in her way, I was equally strong in mine. I have always felt strong. And as the years went by my mad dancing and love of rain diminished and I grew up.

When I was nineteen I went away to California Tech for an engineering degree. Architecture and the construction of buildings, hospitals and schools fascinated me. I roomed alone off campus and went to and fro everyday with my books. I had friends, quite a few in fact, I seemed to gather them around me like followers, but every few close companions. I attracted my share of nice boys, but again no one that seemed –right- somehow. Still, college was my life and I reveled in it as I had once reveled in storms. I was lonely sometimes when I was studying, but I always worked well alone. This was another trait that my mom said I got from her.

But one night I learned that all the times I had felt alone, I was really not alone at all.

_**JarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJareth**_

It was June 30th, I remembered because it was exactly one week from my twenty first birthday; when I sat down with a pint of Ben and Jerry's Phish Food and a book about Winston Churchill. Although I was fond of movies I refused categorically to have a television set because I never studied or read if there was one nearby. I am a girl who knows her weaknesses.

However, I had just sat down and was getting to the point where Winston nicknamed his wife, "Kat" for the first time, when I heard a strange series of noises coming from the kitchenette. I lowered my spoon and listened hard, because there was something very strange about the sounds. They sounded like the creak and squeak of mice, but just under it there were…_voices._

_"It was my idea. I should be the one to talk to her first."_ The first discernable voice said.

There came a few snickers and a gurgle.

_"But I was the one who found the place."_ A second argued.

More snickers—more gurgles.

_"But I'm better looking than both of you so I should go."_ A third enjoined.

Someone hit the third speaker and I could hear them squabbling around the linoleum.

As they continued arguing I discarded my ice cream and armed myself with the thick biography as I knelt on the couch. I couldn't have told you what I thought was in the kitchenette, but I was pretty sure that I wouldn't want to face it—_them_— unarmed. I had just edged my way off the couch and took up a position beside the doorway when a rolling ball of fur and metal clanged into the living room.

Instead of attacking me—I screamed anyway— they rolled to the far end of the room and began knocking things over in their efforts to subdue each other.

"I'll show you who the pretty one is! Pretty dozy face with buck teeth!" a sort of rat shrieked out.

"Here now! Get off my tail! I didn't do nuffing!" his scaly victim (a snake I think) yelled shrilly, "Nuffing but tell the truth! Ow!"

The rat and snake were pulled apart by what appeared to be a little man with an oversized head. A filthy cap was clapped on his head and he wore breeches, a vest and a gray shirt that looked as if it had once been white. His large blue eyes blinked rapidly as the snake spat and hissed at the rat who swiped at his enemy with a tiny needle-sharp sword.

"Ouch! Hoggle, make him stop! He nearly cut off my tail!" the snake squeaked.

"Both of you stop it before we wake up the –Oh." His eyes fell on me and the snake sank its fangs into the rat's foot who howled in rage and pain.

The little man, Hoggle, gave them each a rough shake that set the armor on the rat clinking against itself. I stood there, my book in hand, watching them with horror and fascination. They were like something out of a movie or a fairytale. They were like—

"Goblins," I stammered.

"Eh? What?" Hoggle looked up sharply. The struggling rat and snake stopped and stared at me, their mouths falling open in shock and surprise. I almost laughed to see them both hanging limp with amazement from the little man's hands.

"What did you say?" the one called Hoggle asked.

Suddenly afraid I swallowed and raised my book a few inches, "Goblins—you're all like goblins."

Then to my amazement and consternation they all dropped to the floor and Hoggle whipped his cap off his greasy hair as they all bowed. Hoggle lifted his blue eyes to my face and said, "We have found you at last—_Princess of the Labyrinth_."


	2. Not Quite Human

Disclaimer: I don't own nothing!

_**Not Quite Human**_

_**By **_

_**Jaffee Leeds**_

Hours and much arguing later, I faced my visitors and found myself saying, "So my father is—David Bowie?"

The rat and snake, Bevel and Sybil respectably, laughed their heads off at this. Hoggle sighed and shook his head.

"No, no. You don't understand. The movie was only about the Labyrinth and your parents. Your father is Jareth, not the actor who played him. And if you don't mind me saying so you don't look as if you could be related to David Bowie."

I crossed my arms over my chest defensively, "True, but that really isn't the point. According to you that movie was based in fact."

"I should think I was living proof of that," Hoggle said miffed, "Although I think my film version was not as—real as I am."

"He means he isn't as handsome!" Sybil shrieked with laughter and slithered happily over the couch. I was trying not to notice the little trail of slime she was leaving all over the surface.

"I meant no such thing!" he spluttered.

"Okay, look." I interrupted, "Before you go killing each other over this I have to point out the fact that my mother is a normal and none interesting woman, although I love her, and my Uncle Toby was never kidnapped by a king, goblin or not."

Hoggle's large eyes fastened on me in their disconcerting fashion, "How do you know?"

"Because my mom would have told me," I answered stubbornly, "She would never keep something like that from me."

"Oh, you think so?" the little man nodded, "Ever if it made her look like a terrible person?"

"What do you mean? She beat the labyrinth; why should that make her look bad?"

"She wished her baby brother away to the goblins," Hoggle said pointedly, "She wished her _baby_ brother _away._ Don't think that might be something she was ashamed of having done?"

" I see what you mean," I admitted, "I can't say that it would have made me comfortable around her as a child if I thought she was going to wish me away at the drop of a hat."

"Although she could have." Hoggle sighed and added, "And Jareth would have been happy to have you."

"And turn me into a goblin? No thanks."

"I don't think he would have done that," Hoggle dismissed this thought with a wave of his hand, "You would have been his heir. Even he has enough pride in his position to know that a human heir is much better than a goblin heir."

"Then he is human?" I was relieved. Since they had told me that Jareth was my father I had been churning inside over the fact that I might be half—half—well, something non-human at the very least.

But my relief was short lived as the trio exchanged glances. Bevel cleared his gravelly voice and said, "Jareth's-uh-not human, Emily."

"Nope," Hoggle agreed, "To be perfectly honest, none of us know what he is—just that he has been running and ruling the Labyrinth for as long as any of us remember. All we know for sure it that he isn't human."

"So I'm not—not completely—"

"Human," Hoggle finished unperturbed, "Right, because Jareth is your father."

"You'll pardon me for minute," I said and raced into my bathroom.

My stomach was doing flip-flops and I felt like my dinner was going to make a second appearance at the thought of not being human. I pushed a hand to my abdomen and leaned against the wall for support. I felt tingling all over because suddenly my body was not my own. In a few seconds my own body had become something strange and alien, something-_not human. _

I held my hands out in front of me and looked at them again as if I had never seen them before. In a sense I hadn't, not in the same way. My eyes followed the lines of veins that crisscrossed my palms looking for the something that made me different. I tried to search my thoughts for some memory of some happening that could have warned me that I was—

I looked into the mirror and saw I was crying. My nose was already red and my eyes were quickly adding blood-shot to their description list. I grabbed a tissue and blew my nose loudly. Outside the door a timid knock came and Hoggle's voice interrupted me crying.

"Are you alright, Emily?"

"Yeah," I laughed a little, "I'm just fine."

I washed my face with cold water and allowed my head to hang over the sink, dripping water off in slow fresh tears. I could hear Bevel and Sybil arguing over whether or not they should break down the door to see if I was alright. Hoggle was wisely counseling them against it as we human went into these little rooms for privacy and they didn't like to be disturbed.

I patted my face dry and ignored my red and puffy features as I swung the door open on the trio who were still collected outside.

"I need to see my mom about this, okay?" I said, "Now, I don't know how you travel but if you come with me you have to wear seatbelts and not scrabble all over the floor."

They traded looks and Sybil hissed, "What's a seatbelt?"

_**JarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmily**_

It only took an hour to drive all the way home. But it was enough time for Hoggle and I to be driven nuts by Sybil and Bevel. I finally stopped and locked them both in the trunk. Hoggle put them inside because I couldn't bring myself to touch them. Maybe they were real creatures that didn't mean I wanted to interact with them.

As I fastened my seatbelt again I noticed Hoggle watching me from his seat in the passenger's side.

"What?" I asked, "Is there something on my face?"

"No. I was just thinking that you don't look very much like your mother."

"Actually, I look a lot like my mother," I corrected him as I pulled onto the freeway, "People have been telling me that all my life. I have her chin and hair—I even have her figure."

"But not her face," Hoggle shook his head slowly, "I would know I've spent the last few years staring at it everyday."

"You see my mother everyday?" I comment skeptically, "Now I hardily think that's true."

"When I saw her last she gave me this," he pulled a small picture from his pocket and showed it to me. I recognized it as my mother's college photo from her senior year. It was also the year she had cut her short so it cupped her face, highlighting every feature clearly. I handed the well worn picture back to Hoggle.

"I see what you mean," I said, "But you have to be prepared for the fact that my mom's changed a lot since that picture was taken."

"Yeah," he replied softly, "I guess she must have."

"You guys were close?" I asked. He didn't answer right away as a series of bumps and yells made their muffled way from the trunk.

"Will they be alright in there?" I asked.

He shrugged, "I guess. But you're right, your mother and I were close. She was my first real friend outside the labyrinth. Only friend, really."

"Wow, I can't believe she never told me any of this," I managed.

"You're handling it well," he commented, "Most girls would be screaming and throwing things at me. To be honest I thought you'd kill us as soon as look at us when we appeared."

"I like to think I don't get ruffled easily," I laughed.

"That's your father," he said and the smile left my face, "You're more like him then you know. You have his mouth and eyes—although not quite."

"What do you mean?"

"Jareth has one blue eye and one brown eye," Hoggle said off-handedly, "Yours are just brown."

"Gee thanks," I pulled onto my exit and signaled to head toward my neighborhood.

"Nice enough eyes though," he added hastily.

We drove on in silence for a while after that and Hoggle busied himself with looking out the window. There wasn't much to see of my childhood neighborhood because the day was heavy and overcast and night was making an early appearance. The sounds from the trunk had gradually stopped and the only sound came from the rain on the roof.

Pulling up to the small yellow house I called home, I looked at Hoggle.

"I think we should leave them in there for a while," I said nodding to the trunk. He nodded and we both walked to the side door. It was locked so I knocked and prayed that mom was home. I should have called ahead to make sure, but she was usually home at this hour in the evening.

She answered a minute later, "Emily, honey! What a nice surprise come i—" her words died away as she caught sight of Hoggle.

"Mom," I broke in, "I need you to tell me about Jareth—about my father."

_**JarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmily**_

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	3. The World is Falling Down

Disclaimer: I don't own nothing!

_**The World is Falling Apart**_

**By **

**Jaffee Leeds**

Chinese wontons nestled together in yellow crispy profusion in one container while rice steamed in another. Sesame seed chicken cast its mouth watering aroma over the room and piping hot vegetables were heaped in healthy abundance. Bevel and Sybil stared at the spread feast with large and hungry eyes. Even Hoggle, while keeping his hands to himself, licked his lips longingly.

I looked at my mom and shrugged. She sighed and threw her hands up in the air, "Go ahead, and help yourselves. I have a feeling that Emily and I won't want any."

As they fell to, Mom turned to me, her eyes already tired. Looking at her I saw all the traces of the young woman in Hoggle's photograph. She had started going gray last year but had beaten it back with hair coloring. She was relatively fit for her fifties although she was fighting middle age spread. Since the college photo she had let her hair grow long again and I couldn't help but think it suited her better.

"So what do you want to know?" she asked as she brushed her hair back with a hand.

"I want to say _everything_," I admitted, "There is so much I don't know that I don't even know where to begin asking questions."

"Then we can start with Jareth," she decided, "He's the one at the center of everything else."

"Is he really my father?"

Her eye's flickered from mine and toward the trio who were rapidly devastating the food, "Yes," she said softly, "There was never anyone else."

"But why? He-he kidnapped you and Uncle Toby-if what Hoggle says is true is true then he's a creep." I said, "How could you ever—er—you know."

"I was infatuated with him," She confessed awkwardly, her hands twisting together in her lap, "Honey, you can't know what a force he is until you've met him. Jareth wasn't the Goblin King for nothing. My triumphant over him was amazing because no one had ever won after me, and as far as I know, never has won since. He is like the most powerful magnet for interest, love and passion. I can't describe it."

Her face was flushed with embarrassment and I was finding hard to look at her as she spoke. There was something almost girlish and silly about her words yet cold and chilling. I knew she was telling the truth and it was frightening.

"What happened after you came home?" I asked, "There's a world of difference between hating someone and falling in love with them."

"I couldn't _not _think of him. My thoughts were filled with him in the years following that night. I didn't date and I was more reclusive than before it happened. My parent were worried about me for a while and I was beginning to think I was losing my mind when –he came back. He never said why but I understood that he had had the same problem with me."

"He told me that he loved me and he wanted me to come back to the Labyrinth with him. I fell under his spell as if I had never feared him. When a man, a man like Jareth confesses love for you, you don't know where to look or how to breathe and time changes…" Her voice sank to a whisper at this last.

"Reordered time," I concluded, "Why did you leave him?"

"Because as much as I loved him and as much as he was able to love me it just wasn't enough," she flicked lint off her jeans, "He was still King of the goblins and it was still his duty to whisk away unwanted children. Even with my hold over him I couldn't stop him from continuing his work and he wasn't willing to give it up."

"Did you know about me before or after you left him?" I held my breath hoping she said after, hoping he didn't know about me.

"Before," she said crushing my hopes, "He knew before I did—he could feel you growing. But by then we had grown so far apart that we didn't have the joy that most couples do when they discover they're pregnant."

"And he just left you go? He didn't fight to keep you even after that?"

"Of course he did, but I convinced him that it would never work. And it wouldn't have—you would not have grown up to be the great young woman you are if Jareth had raised you. He finally agreed and sent me home. The rest is history."

He voice had grown cool as she told me the rest and it poured out in a rush. Standing she moved toward the kitchen, "He promised not to interfere with you during your life."

"And he hasn't," I said dully, leaning against the counter top, "Until now."

"Yeah," she removed the Folgers from the cupboard and began making coffee, "That's what bothers me."

Before I could ask what she meant, Hoggle walked in wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt.

"We need to talk, Sarah," he announced with a jerk of his chin toward me, "Alone."

Mom glanced from him to me and I shrugged, "He's your friend. I'm going to go the Blockbuster and see if I can't pick up a copy of the movie."

She nodded distractedly and she and Hoggle went onto the screened in sun porch at the back. Rain still drummed down on the tin ceiling effectively covering their conversation to anyone (Me) who might have listened in. As I pulled away from the curb I could see that Sybil and Bevel were watching me from the windows, their little faces pressed up against the glass. I waved goodbye and they waved happily back, seeming thrilled to have attracted my notice. I dropped my hand down again and felt like a criminal. I didn't like them and it wasn't honest to pretend to like having them around.

I found the movie easily enough once I reached the store and said, "The Labyrinth," the case was placed in my hands and I stared at the cover photo of Jennifer Connelly and David Bowie. While my father didn't look quite like David Bowie, the picture was some kind of representation of him.

"It's a good movie," the cashier said helpfully, "I've seen it a million times."

"That good?" I heard myself saying, "I don't really know the story myself."

"You'll love it. Most people do," he said and smiled, "Have a nice day."

"Thanks," I turned to go, "Who's the bad guy again?"

He cocked his head to the side and considered before answering, "Well—I think that the gobbling king is supposed to be the bad guy, but he isn't really that bad and everyone I know likes him the best. Him or Sir Didymus."

"Sir Didymus, right, he's the squirrel thing isn't he?"

"He's a fox," the cashier corrected mildly, "Yay verily!"

"Right, thanks," I smiled back, "I'll let you know what I think."

It started raining before I got back to the house and I was almost expecting to find the doors locked when I tried the handle. But Hoggle's presence seemed to be enough to keep mom from running around and barring every door. Bevel and Sybil were seated in front of the TV in awe. They were watching Sesame Street and arguing over whether or not Oscar was a goblin. They decided he was.

"Hey, Mom. I got it," I set the video down. She glanced at it as she paced from one end of the room to the other. She was nervous and she kept running her hands over her arms as if she was holding herself back from locking the doors and windows.

"Oh, did you want to watch it now?" she asked absently. Hoggle was, standing behind her, shook his head.

"No, I guess I'll wait. Do you care if I spend the night?"

"I was just going to suggest that myself," she smiled in relief, "I'll make up a bed on the couch if you want."

"Sure," I turned away to the living room and as soon as mom's back was turned I motioned for Hoggle to follow me.

"Is she going to be okay?" he asked, "I haven't seen her this bad since…well, I can't even remember seeing her this unhappy."

"She hates the rain and storms in general," I explained, "But there's something more, Hoggle, what did you tell me when I was gone."

"I told her about Jareth," he answered, "I didn't want to but it's important that she understand the situation fully."

"Then something's wrong. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was going to tell you, but with one thing and another I forgot. We came because we need your and Sarah's help," he took a deep breath and looked straight into my eyes, "We came to get you because the labyrinth is falling apart."

"Falling apart? How? Why?"

"Because," Mom's voice came behind me. I swung to face her and tears were standing in her eyes, "Because Jareth is dying."

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	4. Rushing Wind

Disclaimer: I don't own nothing.

_Rushing Wind_

By

Jaffee Leeds

The house was quiet. The rain had given up around four in the morning and only the wind made its presence known. Hoggle was snoring in the guest room and Bevel and Sybil had curled up on the window seat in the living room. They lay spooned up like lovers although they had fought nearly the entire day over everything. Theirs' was an innocent babyish anger and, like children, they resolved their differences before dropping off to sleep.

I couldn't sleep. Nothing in the world would have induced me to even feel tired although I was tired; dead tired. Pressing my fingers against my hot eyelids I flipped over to try and find a more comfortable position on the couch. The room seemed warm and close; the air stale and lifeless. The windows were closed tight against the wind and it was driving me crazy. Sliding off the couch I crept over to the window and slipped the catch back. The house was fairly old but the windows were new and opened with a gentle sigh.

Fresh and damp air rushed into the room and for a moment I could feel it hitting the opposite wall before swirling around the room like a caged animal looking for freedom. I leaned my forehead against the sill and allowed the breeze to ruffle my hair out of place. I hadn't had the courage to watch the movie after what Mom had said. Instead it had sat on the kitchen table all evening, resting like a cobra, poisonous and untouchable. I felt like a coward.

"You still awake?"

I twisted around to see Mom slumped on the doorframe, her hair mused from tossing and turning, her bathrobe thrown over a light nightie. Her eyes were red-rimmed and faded. She'd been crying for hours.

"I couldn't sleep," I admitted, "Considering the day it just didn't happen."

"Yeah, I didn't sleep much either." She moved to the couch and I joined her each of us claiming an end. For some reason we had kept a careful distance between us since I had found out about Jareth's impending death.

I pulled my knees to my chin and played with my toes while I tried to think how to broach the next subject with my mother. She rested her on the back cushion and closed her eyes. Her breathing was gentle and even, but weary and interrupted by a little hitch every once in awhile; the remnants of a good cry.

"Mom, I know you don't want to talk about it, but why is Jareth dying?"

"I don't know," she answered without opening her eyes, "I just don't know." She opened her eyes a little and stared at the window seat where the goblins slept, "I never thought he would. I didn't think it was possible."

"Is it—" I took a deep breath, "Do you think it's your fault?"

"Oh, Emily, I—" her face crumpled and she covered it with her hands, "I don't know! I've been going over and over it in my mind, trying to think if there's way I did something to cause this. But I just don't know!"

I put my arms around her, "I know. I know."

"I would never hurt him, never," she cried into my shoulder, "But I'm afraid I did—am."

"There's nothing you can do," I soothed, "Please, don't cry."

Bevel and Sybil shifted in their sleep and Sybil's coils tightened around Bevel's rotund middle as they settled back. A contented sigh came from the rat's lips and suddenly I found myself tearing up. I blinked rapidly and focused on my mother.

"Are you sure?" I asked, "Hoggle seems to think—"

"It doesn't matter—what he's suggesting is impossible," she pulled away and grabbed a tissue from the box on the coffee table. Dabbing her eyes and blowing her nose, my Mom heaved a great sigh. Resolve settled over her like a mantle and I could see the strength of her character coming out of hiding, "It can't happen."

I picked at my pajama leg for a moment, "What is he suggesting?"

"Emily—I told you it's impossible—," she began.

"Look, can we please jut stop it with the game?" I asked angrily, "Can we just stop pretending that we're dealing with reality here? For crying out loud Mom, we have three goblins sleeping in the house tonight! You admitted that my father isn't human and isn't even from our world. You talk about the impossible, but it seems to me like we're sure as hell living it!"

I had risen from the couch and paced to the end of the room from where the two goblins were sleeping. The breeze had dropped the temperature a few degrees and my anger made me cold. I wrapped my arms around myself and stared at my mother. She had moved to her knees on the couch and looked at me as if she'd never seen me before. Maybe, like me that afternoon, she was seeing the real, whole me for the first time.

She pushed her hair back with both hands, pausing with them just behind her ears as she thought of a reply. I went on.

"We're talking about the end of the world as Hoggle and your friends know it. And even if I didn't know or care about my…Jareth, he is still a living being that you once cared about. You're suggesting that we do nothing about it! And if we don't the labyrinth could fall into nothing and the lives of all kinds of creatures would end. Mom, you've never been able to kill a spider and now you're letting a whole world die."

I paused and caught my breath, "I would have said that was impossible."

"You're right,' she agreed finally, "You are right, I am letting a world die. I could be the one responsible for the deaths of friends who are very dear to me. But don't you think that I'm just doing it willy-nilly! You talk about the Underground as if it were the same as earth, it's not. You talk about Jareth sympathetically, but that's because you don't know him. He has kidnapped hundreds, maybe _thousands_ of children in his life time and tormented just as many older siblings. He has been little better than a tyrant to his subjects and the labyrinth was hardily more than a ruin most of the time. You tell me I'm being harsh to the labyrinth world, but I _know_ it! I am conscious of the world I am destroying and I know the responsibility of my actions."

She was white to the lips and she was beginning to shake, "I have loved the people of the Underground, for God's sake you are alive because of that love. I know better than anyone in this world what I am doing and believe me I do not do it lightly. You want me to save them—I won't. I know what I am doing."

"Did you know it when you wished Toby away?"

We both whirled to find Hoggle standing watching us. He was angry and breathing hard as if every breath hurt. I realized he must have heard everything mom and I had said. I looked at her and saw the panic on her face. Hoggle, her dear friend, had just heard her refusing to save his world. At this point not even the goblins could continue sleeping and Bevel and Sybil lay observing.

"Hoggle, you don't understand. I can't do what you're asking."

"I think I understand very clearly," he huffed, "You think that you can waltz into our world turn it upside down because of a mistake you made and then—_and then _after winning our trust, go and dump us into oblivion because it's good for you."

"I didn't mean it like that and you know it! I had no intention of leaving you or Sir Didymus or any of our friends to die in the Underground."

"Oh, so you were going to call us all into this world where we don't belong and then what? Let every other living thing in the Underground die?" he moved forward and for the first time he looked like a force to be reckoned with, not a funny little man, "We loved you, Sarah, when it was easy, when it was hard and sometimes it was _very_ hard, but none of us would have thought of destroying your world around you so that we won't lose something."

"But you have never had a daughter," my mother challenged, "You don't know what it's like."

"Maybe," he agreed, "But my love for Ludo and Sir Didymus is none the less strong because they are friends and not relations. We love the Underground."

"We all make mistakes."

A dead silence followed this. It was as if the whole world was holding its collective breath in the seconds—or was it hours—that followed this pronouncement. Hoggle came to me and took my hand in his leathery palm, but addressed my mother instead of me.

"I can't send her, Sarah," he choked, "But if she were my only child and my only comfort—I would send her for you."

Bevel and Sybil crept over to us, Sybil wrapping herself comfortingly around Hoggle's ankle while Bevel took up a guard's stance on behalf of his friend. I stood there with them as if the four of us were one people and my mother was someone else entirely. Her mother's face was half in shadow now as the sun was just beginning to appear over the horizon. She was stooped slightly forward, her arms holding her middle as if she felt a great pain there.

"Do you know what you're asking me to do?" she rasped.

"Yes," Hoggle replied gently, "But you know it must be you. No one else can do it this way."

Tears were pouring down her cheeks. I made to go to her but the goblins stopped me, "Wait," Hoggle advised. She wept quietly for a few seconds.

"I promised to never do it again," she whispered.

"Most promises are broken," he told her, "Everyday—and few for such good reasons."

"Let's get it over with then," she said, suddenly grim and determined. She straightened up and came to me. Pulling me into a hug she whispered, "Know that I love you, Emily. That I _love _you, no matter what happens."

"Mom, what's going on?" I asked, suddenly afraid, "What are you doing?"

Instead of answering she went to the window and threw it open all the way. As the spring air rushed into the room sending the curtains into wild dances she turned to face me, her hair whipping around her like a black cloud. The sky was just a pale violet as the rim of the golden sun peeked over the edge of the world. I stared at it with all my strength, as if I would never see it again. The goblins each grabbed hold of me and squeezed their shut tight.

"Mom!"

"Trust me," she said, already her voice was far away.

Facing the rising sun, she called out, "I wish the goblins would come and take my daughter away from me right now!"

The wind shrieked and the bottom fell out as all the world exploded into light.

_**JarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmily**_

**Review Responses: **

**Notwritten**: Thanks!

**Lanthe**: Thank you so much! I'm trying to be realistic (I think I spelled that wrong) about everything. Please keep reading and reviewing.

**Yodeladyhoo**: Thanks for the advice, sometimes it's easy to miss those mistakes and even spell-check doesn't catch them all. I hope you keep reading! And reviewing, of course.

**Kalaia**: I hope this is soon enough!


	5. The Horror of Forgetting

Disclaimer: I don't own nothing!

_**The Horror of Forgetting**_

**By **

**Jaffee Leeds **

The light was strange, a deep red, almost black. I blinked—or was sensible of trying to blink, but I felt detached from my body as if I could see it from _very_ far away. I could see my face, calm, almost perfectly emotionless as if I hadn't a care in the world. As if I hadn't the sense to have a care in the world. I tried to make my body move but nothing happened to the body I was seeing. I merely lay there existing in some place of nothingness.

And then, from the nothingness I could hear voices, unfamiliar voices that I felt I should know.

"Another child was wished away sire," one gravelly voice announced.

"I don't care."

"But it's a girl whose mother wished her away! That never happens," the first voice said, with the tone of one trying to coax a sick child to eat. I waited to hear what the second voice would say.

"Sire? What shall we do with the girl?" came the prompting voice.

"I don't care—put her in an oubliette. If her mother wants to forget about her then let her forget completely."

"Won't she run the Labyrinth, Sire? The mother I mean?" even the goblin's voice was shocked.

"No. I'm tried of giving people second chances when they make foolish choices. Now go away."

They stopped talking then. I wanted to call out and ask them to keep talking to give me something to think of besides the bleakness around me. But I couldn't move my mouth anymore then I could move my limbs. It was a cruel joke to give me hearing and sight and nothing more. It was meanness to a new degree. It was cruelty worthy of—_the Goblin King_.

With a sharp jolt I hit the gravel floor of the oubliette, my head cracking soundly against a jutting rock. Pain lanced painfully across the back of my skull and I forgot everything for several throbbing moments. But as the pain receded my eyes began to see more then blackness and I saw that there was a rusting grate in the ceiling. I sat up slowly, expecting the rush of blood to send me reeling, but even that didn't happen.

"Hello? Is anybody there?" I called out. No answer.

Feeling around with my arms I found a series of projecting rocks that I could pull myself up with. I rubbed my nose and the scent of the dust on my fingers tickled my nose. It was strangely spicy and sweet smelling like it was cinnamon sugar, but it lacked the sharp tang of cinnamon. I took a breath to clear my thoughts and brushed my hands off on my pajama bottoms. I had to find a way out of the oubliette, but everyone forgot about me.

Once again feeling around the small enclosure, I began to run over my situation mentally. I was in the Underground, I was convinced of it, but I wasn't being taken to Jareth and I was totally and utterly alone in a hole in the ground. Apparently when mom sent me back she wasn't able to add the three goblins onto the process. Not that I wanted them with me, I didn't. I couldn't stand the feel of their skin on mine and even if they were okay as goblins went I did not want to be friends with them.

"You're not like your mother," a voice broke into my thoughts. I froze, my hands pressing into the rock. The voice had come from behind me and close to the floor. Whatever it was it was smaller then—maybe something I didn't have to worry about.

"No, I'm not. She always said that when I was little." I answered.

"I can believe that—no! Don't turn around!" the voice cautioned as I began to turn, "I'm in no condition to be seen."

"Okay, who are you?" I said, "Are you a goblin?"

A low laugh came from the person, it was full of sadness and despair and I swallowed back an impulse to confront and comfort the stranger.

"I am nobody," the voice said, "Even I have forgotten my name—but I remember your mother."

"How do you know who I am? How did you know I was Sarah's daughter" I asked, "If you can't even remember your own name?"

A tired sigh, "Maybe because I wish to forget myself—you can do that down here—forget yourself. The oubliette isn't just for trashing what Jareth doesn't want, but for you forgetting anything you care to –overlook, shall we say? I remember your mother because she almost freed me."

"Really?" I was aching to turn around, "How?"

"In the ballroom," was the simple answer, "she wasn't the only one who was trapped inside it."

"What ballroom?" I was confused now, this conversation was going nowhere.

"The ballroom of dreams," the voice explained. The weariness was leaving the voice as surprise and merely annoyance took their place, "Where Jareth tried to seduce your mother."

"Tried too?" I gasped, "You mean he didn't succeed?"

"So you don't know!" enlightenment colored the tones and I heard a rustle of clothe as the person shifted, "You don't know what happened to your mother in the Labyrinth?"

"And you do?"

A rustle, like a shrug, "Some—like I said, she almost freed me."

"Yeah? Why don't you tell me about it while I try to find a way out of here?" I said, "I'll keep my back to you if you want, but I can't stand the idea of waiting around listening to stories."

"Just as you chose," the voice went on, suddenly drained, "But there is no way out of the oubliette. I've searched for so _many_ years."

"Good," I answered, "Go ahead and tell me what kept my mother from saving you."

"Well, as I said, Jareth tried to seduce her. He'd used the trick many times before successfully, but this time it didn't work. Oh, the usual thing happened—she went searching for him and he played with her. I always thought he was like a great cat toying with a mouse or a rabbit before killing them."

"But you said it didn't work," I was slowly making my way around the small room. It was about nine feet by nine feet. The walls were all rough, jagged cut rock as if they had been made in a hurry and put into use as soon as possible.

"And it didn't." the person—it sounded like a man to me now—laughed, "She certainly fell for it at first, but when he began to fall into the illusion she realized something was wrong. Everyone, even a baby would know that he doesn't fall into dreams as easily as that. But when she took up the chair and smashed the crystal—" his voice caught and I could hear the intake of breath that told me he was holding back tears, "—we all fell free!"

"Did you try to help her once you were disenchanted?" I asked I was coming close to where he was now, "Help her solve the Labyrinth?"

There was a long pause and I heard his breathing grow nearer as I felt along the wall. I was just beginning to feel a kind of pattern in the stonework as I brushed against clothe. With a cry he scuttled away falling under the circle of light long enough for me to see that he was white haired and bent over double. He crawled more then walked to the other side of the cavern. He seemed to be human at least.

"I'm sorry," I said, "Go on."

"Don't misunderstand me,' his voice was shaky, "I'm not afraid of you—not really—but I haven't been around another speaking being for—" here he almost wept, "I don't even remember!"

"About my mother—" I suggested. I felt a strange shifting under my hands; the rock was growing warm to the touch. I took my hands away quickly.

"I never saw her after that night," he said.

"But you said you were almost freed by her—why weren't you freed totally?"

"Because I became enamored of my own dreams,' he said softly with great wretchedness, "And before I knew it I followed them into foolish vision after foolish vision and soon I was part of the apparition that held me captive. One day, I found myself within these walls and here I have remained ever since. A wreck of what I could have been."

"I am sorry for you," I whispered, "I can't imagine what you've lived through."

"I wouldn't try too—such a course would only lead to despondency and woe." The deadness was creeping back into his tone, "So many long years in the dark."

"But the sun shines into the oubliette a little," I replied going to stand under the grating, "We have to be thankful for some things." I said turning my face upward.

He was silent for so long that I began to think he'd gone to sleep. But his breathing was loud and erratic in the quiet and I shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. I shuffled back from the light but a hand shoot from the darkness to stop me. It stopped just shy of me and I saw how pale and scarred it was from years of searching the oubliette for a door.

"Don't move!" he commanded, "Don't move an inch from where you stand!"

I did as he said, but prepared to attack if he did anything weird. But all that happened was the appearance of the pitifully creature, hobbling into the circle of light to join me. All hair cover his head and shoulders and a heavy beard grew to his breast. Old and worn out clothing hung in rags from his gaunt frame; I was suddenly curious to how he survived for so long in a place without a food or water source nearby. As he came nearer I wasn't sure I wanted to know.

"You say—the sun shines," he rasped harshly, "I see only darkness in this place. Where—how can you see light where all is the blackness of eternity?"

"Take my hand," I held them both out toward his, "And you'll be standing right under it with me."

The dry hands grabbed mine and we were pulled flush together by the action. And I saw—I saw a young face—a terribly young face framed by the long hair of ages waiting. Wide brown eyes stared unseeing into my face, the pupils huge and black, truly hidden from the light by some horrible magic.

"You're young!" I said.

"No! No! I'm old! I've been here so long," he threw my hands away, "I'm old and frail! I will die soon I know it!"

"But your face! You look as young as I am!" I countered, "Not old at all."

He screamed at me and threw his hands over his ears and began rocking back and forth, "Not young—I'm not! You're just a trick then aren't you? Jareth, damn him! Is doing it again! Tricking me into thinking I'm young…I'm not! Not young I tell you!' his voice rose to a piercing shriek of terror, "They said that you never grow old and die in an oubliette—that is the horror of it—but I knew I would grow old and die! I will! I will be free of this cursed place!"

I stood there frozen in revulsion, my hands still clutching at the air. This was the true mercilessness of the oubliette. The captive was forgotten by the Underground and while they lingered—they could never die! Jareth had done this! I turned away and was sick, my stomach heaving out anything I had eaten. The disgust I felt was so great I shuddered and grew cold again at the whirl wind of aversion that swept through me—my father had imprisoned this pathetic creature forever and thrown me to join him; forever trapped in living death.

As I knelt, my hand supporting my against the rock, once again they began to warm to my touch. This time I felt the warmth seeping along my arms and toward my shoulders; strangely enough, the warmth stopped just shy of too hot to hold and as I straightened up I felt the wall give a little.

"Ah! The wall's moving!" I called, "The wall's moving out!"

"I won't listen to you!" he rocked crazily, knocking his head against the rocky outcropping beside him, "You're an illusion!"

'Then I'm illusioning myself right out of here!" I said, pushing now as hard as I could. The wall gave and gave bowing out like a garage door back home. He didn't look and I doubted he could see the light flooding into the room as the wall gave with a groan and fell down raising a cloud of dust. I laughed and began dancing around in the light, almost choking as the sweet dust tickled my throat.

"I'm out! I'm out!" I sang, "Come on! The wall's gone and you can be free again!"

To my surprise he had begun to cough and sneeze and as I rejoined him I noticed he was crying helplessly. I put my hand lightly on his shoulder and he didn't flinch away.

"What's wrong? Don't you believe me?"

"I don't know— I'm afraid too. But I must! Because I feel the fresh air and taste the dust it brings with it. I must believe it. But—"

"But what?" I asked.

"I cannot see the light!" he whimpered, "Is there no sun for me?"

I felt tears of pity flood my eyes and I took his arm, "Come with me and I'll lead you into the light. Even if you can't see it I want you to feel it on your skin."

Slowly, as if the movement was too much for his cramped limbs, we walked out of the ruins of the oubliette and onto a dirt path surrounded by green grass. He trembled under my hands and clutched painfully to me. He turned his face upward and just then a cloud moved aside and the sun fell bright and golden on his face that was tragically white. The pupils shrank and his looked away almost immediately as a cry fell from his lips. I helped him sit on the ground and he held the heels of his hands against his eyes a he cried again, but this time without despair.

"What is it? Does it hurt you?"

He struggled for form some words, his lips moving silently as he was too overcome with emotion to express it. Finally I could make out, "Beautiful—so—so beautiful! I thought—I—had—forgotten how to see."

Tears fell from my own eyes as I hugged the weeping man, but my teeth set and I stared out toward the horizon where I could now see the turrets of the castle. Jareth was going to pay for this—if I could ever get as far as the castle he was going to pay for this man's misery.

_**JarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJareth**_

_**Reviewer Response: **_

**Notwritten:** You're into the whole "short-n-sweet" review thing aren't you? I'm cool with that! Thanks!

**Lanthe: **Well---I guess you'll just have to keep reading and reviewing to find out aren't you? Thanks!

**Kalaia: **Is this soon enough? Thanks for reviewing and reading.

**Yodeladyhoo: **Let me know what you thought of what happened! Thanks for reading and reviewing again!


	6. All the Time in the World

Disclaimer: I don't own nothing.

_**All the Time in the World**_

_**By **_

_**Jaffee Leeds**_

Thirteen hours.

It bothered me. The time limit. But what bothered me the most was the seeming lack of it. I hadn't seen Jareth—he obviously didn't what to see me. Fine, I would see him; I would go to him and—and—.

That was the hard part; I didn't know what I was going to do once I got to the castle. In the normal order of things Mom would have ran the Labyrinth for me, but nothing was appearing the way it was supposed to. A snore from my companion drew my attention to him.

He lay curled into a tight ball on the grass, his ragged shirt pulled close around him, sleeping peacefully. At least one of us could rest. I pressed my hands to my eyes and sighed. We hadn't even gotten very far from the oubliette. He was too weak and bent to move quickly and we had had to rest so often that we were still within sight of the ruined prison. Guilt over his slowness weighed me down and my eyes hurt.

The dust was driving me crazy; it was everywhere and in everything. It wasn't painful in and of itself, but it got into my eyes when the oubliette wall had fallen and they had irritated me ever since.

I leaned my head against the wall and allowed my eyes to trace the night sky. It was strange; a deep red instead of the blue-black of our night sky and tiny orange stars twinkled back in pinpoints of beauty. I couldn't help admitting that there were some things in the Labyrinth that were beautiful, some things that were worth saving, even if Jareth wasn't. Another snore reminded me of one of the one who were worth it, poor man.

Suddenly, from around the corner, sounds of an argument erupted. One very high pitched voice and one low and growling. I slipped to my hands and knees and crawled to the corner and peeked around. There, in the reddish light of the stars an old, old—thing was moving to take a seat in a stone chair that reposed near a fountain. The chair and the fountain occupied a series of raised dais' that made up a small patio. He was squat, but still as tall as I was; heavyset with rich robes on and a strange tall hat with the motif of a bird on top.

Weirdly enough he seemed to be arguing with the hat.

"I'm not going to the castle and there is no way you can make me," the man said proving himself the source of the deep voice.

"Well, you are a fool then! I'll always wonder why Jareth made you Wiseman when you do foolish things like this. The Labyrinth is falling apart and all you can do is stay here waiting for oblivion to swallow us both up." The bird squawked angrily.

"I am waiting for the girl," the Wiseman answered heavily. He eased into the chair and let his chin rest on his breast, "And until I have seen her nothing else is so important."

"She won't be coming," the bird went on as if he hadn't heard him, "Jareth would never allow the girl back after she defeated him. Why! Isn't it her fault that everything is falling to wreck and ruin now?"

"Hush now, I think we have a visitor. Will you come out, miss?"

I shot back and cowered behind the wall hoping they hadn't seen me. I held my breath and waited. Nothing happened. My feet were just beginning to cramp when a voice, close to my ear asked softly.

"Maiden?"

"Ah!" I lost my balance and fell forward scraping my elbows on the rough pathway.

I landed and rolled away just in case whoever it was decided to make a grab for me when I was off my feet.

"Now see what you've done, idiot," the bird jabbered, "Scared it right out of its wits. Stupid old man, go back to the chair so we can get some sleep. Maybe that'll bring some sense back to your failing mind—although I doubt it."

"Be still, she is afraid of us," the Wiseman cast a withering glare at his companion, "Don't speak or I'll leave you in the bog of eternal stench."

"As if you could make it that far," the bird snorted rebelliously but fell silent none of the less.

The large head of the man loomed over me, and he smiled kindly, offering a hand.

"Come, come, maiden. I will not hurt you and Sigryd is a good friend when he's in a mood to be. Come and wash your wounds at the fountain, you wouldn't want them to get infected do you?"

"Yeah," I took the hand he offered and pulled myself up, "Especially not with the dirt around here."

"I expect you would find it singular," he smiled amusedly, "What is your name, my dear."

"Emily," I answered, "And you?"

"Bertryd," he answered. He motioned to the fountain before moving to resume his seat, "Bertryd Wiseman. And you are Sarah's daughter aren't you?"

I paused in washing the water down my arm, "Does everyone know her?"

"My dear girl," he chuckled, "Did you think that the Champion of the Labyrinth would be easily forgotten?"

"I guess not," I finished washing and flicked the water off my arms as best as I could, "But I didn't expect everyone I met to talk about her like they knew her."

"What did you expect from the Labyrinth?" his kind eyes gleamed under bushy brows. I smiled and shrugged.

"I don't know…something familiar, I guess.

"I can show you something familiar if you wish," he proffered.

"What is it?" I asked taking a seat on the fountain's rim. I noticed the odd arrangement of leafy materiel that made up his robes. They rustled and shifted like fabric but looked for all the world like leaves.

"Close your eyes," he instructed.

I raised a brow suspiciously and he laughed again, "I'm not going to hurt you, dear. Just close your eyes."

Obediently, I slid my eyes shut, ignoring the pain that still throbbed in them. A whisper of breeze puffed by and the Wiseman hummed a bit under his breath as if he was waiting for something to happen. I waited—nothing happened.

"Now open your eyes, child."

Light. Thousands and millions of lights met my eyes. Held in the crimson embrace of the velvet sky they nestled in glittering profusion and twinkled above me and below me, some as close as an arm's length away. We were suspended among them as if we were a star ourselves and light radiated from us. The water continued to spill from the fountain gathering the orange and yellow lights into its flow and sent them soaring into the air to fall like rain over me. High sonorous tones lifted into the air around us and I caught my breath, it was so beautiful it hurt to see it.

"They're singing!"

"They sing every night," Wiseman explained, "For the beauty of life and the magic of the Underground and for love of her inhabitants."

The tones changed and a new song, sweet and childish played over the stars. Laughter and joy jumped from light to light, coalescing into a veil of golden beam that arched high from star cluster to star cluster. I felt a rush of déjà vu and my heart skipped a beat at the sound.

"I-I know that song," I whispered.

"Of course you do," he agreed softly, "They sang it the day you were born."

I looked at him in surprise, "How do you know?"

He gave a faintly smile, "Because the stars have only ever sung for one line, one dynasty."

"You mean—"

"Jareth."

I looked down at my hands cupped together in my lap. I felt ashamed suddenly, "Then you know that he's—he's."

"That he is your father? Yes, I knew the moment you entered the Labyrinth," he coughed a bit and went on, "I don't always know when someone runs the Labyrinth, but you…I felt _you_ enter right away."

"And I was the girl you were waiting for?" I asked remembering what he had said earlier, "Why? I mean, please, I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing next."

"You are to go to the castle," Wiseman said in shock, "You didn't know that?"

"I guessed I should go there but I'm not here for a sibling and there is no time limit so I thought I could go slowly and make sure I didn't miss anything important."

"Important! Important? Don't you know? You said there was no time limit as if that were a good thing."

"Isn't it?"

Wiseman reached out a hand but didn't touch me, "Don't you understand, Emily? Every other time a girl or boy has fallen into the Labyrinth they have been given a time period which forces them to win or lose and most lose. Jareth also hinders them and sets traps and problems in their way to stop them. But you haven't faced any of that—haven't you wondered why?"

"I figured that he didn't think I could get out of the oubliette," I swallowed, "But there's more to it then just that isn't there?"

"The labyrinth is dying," he said and I shivered. The stars faltered in their song for a moment and began again in a slightly more mournful tone, "Jareth no longer cares about the Labyrinth—who comes, who goes and because of that the world is spinning out of control around them. You didn't see it but the outer fringes of the Labyrinth are being consumed by oblivion."

"You're saying that he holds all of this together?" I asked. I stood on the edge of the fountain and looked over the universe that surrounded us. Once I knew what to look for I clearly saw the way the stars circled around the land of Underground that reposed so serenely far below us, "To save the world I have to—"

"Save your father, it's that easy."

My chest constricted and I thought of the man who even now lay dreaming in freedom, "It is not as easy as you think—Jareth is not a good man. He has done evil and cruel things to people, hundreds of people and I can't condone that. If I help save him he will still go on hurting people and stealing children from their families and turning them into goblins. He represents everything that it wrong with the Labyrinth."

"All I can say, my dear, is that you do not know your father very well—that, or you do not understand the nature of the Labyrinth at all. But that is why you are here and that is why I have to tell you my message."

I inclined my head, but didn't face him. The stars were slowly ending their song and I strained to catch every last note as it died. The life's blood of the Underground seemed to pulse through every cord of music and I felt as if I could fathom all her secrets if I could but hear enough of the song. I reached out my right hand as if to keep the stars a moment longer and as I did so a pulling sensation rippled through me and the space around us contracted, shrinking closer. Flowing into a swirling orb of light and dark, the space grew closer as I closed my fingers inward. Looking into the pulsing heart of the orb I saw the flash of a face—a man sitting alone, head bowed and held in two hands. He was full of despair and the void stood poised to burn up the figure in an instant.

I drew the picture closer to see him better. I should warn him, I knew—in that moment I knew I could warn him; I had to get closer. But just as the orb was reaching the size of a large beach ball I felt the world tilt and jump under me and I fell—my senses fogging and the clarity of the orb slipping swiftly out of my fingers and spinning away far--far out of reach.

"Time is a tricky thing in the Labyrinth; the faster you run the further you will be from your goal. Small steps cover the distance," Wiseman's voice echoed through my fall, "Remember, you have all the time in the world. _All the time in the world_."

I thudded to the earth and as the blackness sapped my consciousness my thoughts swirled and dipped with the song of the stars.

_**JarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJareth**_

**Reviewer Responses: **

**Yodeladyhoo**: I guess you'll just have to keep reading to find out! I'm so glad your enjoying the story. Thanks!

**Kalaia: **Now watch they do next! Thanks for reviewing!

**Jentrollgirl**: The greatest compliment a writer could ask for—thank you so much! I'll up date as soon as I get reviews. I know, I know bribery, but it might work.


	7. The Game is Not Played Out

Disclaimer: I don't own nothing.

_The Game is Not Played Out_

By

Jaffee Leeds

"She's gonna die!" a reptilian voice wailed.

"She's not gonna die," A lower gravelly voice added, "She's Sarah's daughter."

"But she sooo pale!"

"That is a problem—"

"Maybe we can wake her up?"

"How? Shout, scream?—I suppose we could shake her."

"Ooohhh! I'm not touching her! She's so dry and roughed skinned; I couldn't stand the feel of her flesh touching mine. You shake her."

"I don't like the feeling of her skin anymore than you do," the gravelly voice added, "Not a bit of fur anyway—why she practically naked!"

"We'll both do it, Shall we?" the snaky voice suggested.

"Good idea."

A slimy coil looped itself over my arm and to tiny, cold hand were placed on my shoulder and then shaken as hard as the two goblins could move. I lay there for a moment pretending to sleep on, but they were trying so hard that I couldn't help but laugh. As I rolled upright the hands and coils left me as Bevel shouted, "Hurrah! She's awake!"

"AAaa" My mouth stretched in a yawn and I flexed my arms and shoulders. They were stiff from sleeping on the gravel path around the now empty chair of Wiseman. Standing before me, Bevel and Sybil watched me happily, "Where'd you guys come from?" I asked.

"Well, we don't have to be wished back to the Labyrinth to come back," bevel explained, "We come and go as we please."

"And it pleases us to come to you now," Sybil hissed cheerfully, "We had a hard time of it though—we couldn't find you."

"Yeah, well," I brushed my hands together to wipe away the dirt, "I was stuck in an oubliette."

Sybil sucked in a shocked breath and Bevel clapped his hands over his mouth, his beady eyes bulging. They stood like some freakish lawn ornaments staring at me. I felt an overwhelming urge to scoop them up and hug them; an impulse that surprised me. But here in the Labyrinth they were different, gentler and less strange. Then I shivered as another thought hit me. Maybe they hadn't changed at all; maybe I had. A whisper of the star-song floated through my mind. I looked around the courtyard and quickly stood.

"I'll tell you about it sometime, but we don't have a lot of time to stand around talking, okay?" I watched them give each other a little shove.

"What do you want to do?" Bevel asked.

"Well, since you guys are here now and Hoggle probably not too far behind, I ask I should look for my mom. Oh! And we have to go and get the guy who was in the oubliette with me—he shouldn't be left alone, I think. Mom should be able to help me with him for a while..." I trailed off when I realized they were shaking their heads.

"What?" I asked.

"Your –Sarah isn't coming," Bevel managed, "She can't come back to the Labyrinth."

My heart sank in my chest, "Why not?"

Bevel shrugged, his tiny armor creaking with the motion, "I don't know—we goblins don't know why, but we do know it can't happen. Jareth told us all that when she left the last time."

"He was very angry," Sybil volunteered.

"He was unhappy," Bevel contradicted with a side glare at Sybil, "Anyway, she can't come."

I plopped onto the fountain edge, "And I have to face the Labyrinth alone and figure out how to save it?"

"Pretty much," Bevel hopped up next to me.

"What a nightmare," I rubbed my hand over my face and sighed, "Could it get any worse?"

"Oh no," Bevel moaned.

A tremor ran through the ground. An instant later the earth opened up and roared.

_**JarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJareth**_

"Sweetie? Are you okay?"

I opened my eyes and saw Mom leaning over me, her brow creased with worry.

"Mom!" I threw my arms around her and squeezed, "I thought you couldn't come here."

"Shhhh," she stroked my hair, "Don't cry, honey."

"Mom," I pulled back a bit, "The Labyrinth isn't working right. I can't win the Labyrinth because there is no one to win for."

She didn't answer, just stroked my hair and looked at me as if she was listening to what I was saying. I narrowed my eyes at her and realized that she wasn't quite right. Her hair was longer than Mom wore it now and she was younger—very young, I realized. She did and said all of the things to comfort me, she even smelled right, but her eyes were—empty. She was no better than a wonderful kind of vision.

"You're not—you're not my Mom," I said pushing her away gently.

I was laying on my bed from my childhood home, the blue curtains blowing in a breeze and the sun shinning in slanted shafts of light. The room was scented with cedar and vanilla from the hamster cage and the plunge-in in the outlet. My toys and books, CD's and even the pile of sneakers at the bottom of the open closet were right. It was a perfect remake. I went to the door and laid my hand on the knob. The vision mother sighed.

"You've grown into such a beautiful young woman, Emily," she said softly, "Your father would be so proud."

"Don't" I whispered, "I don't want to hear it."

"He loves you," she said simply, "Goodbye."

I turned to her for a moment and wished she was real. She smiled and as I opened the door, vanished away in a swirl of sparkling light. And I was standing on a sea of glass.

Vertigo surged through me as my eyes registered the chasm that yawned open beneath me. Crystal mountains pierced the blue sky with jagged points, sheering down into black glistening valleys. I fell against the crystal ground and the cool substance met my fingers softly instead of the jarring impact I expected. As my palms hit the ground a sound rippled away from them and down the edge of the precipice growing deeper and stronger as it went. A tinkling of music shuddered down from the peaks and chased each other down the slopes as shards of crystal cascaded.

I scooted away fiercely; heights have never been my thing, until my back met resistance. The reverberation of sound around me and the flashes of light off the crystal made my eyes water and my ears ring painfully.

Suddenly I saw a figure to my left and I sprang to my feet. But the person didn't come closer, they moved passed me along the wall and didn't see me at all. As they neared I could see they were inside the wall. They waved when they were close and I waved back, dropping my hand when I felt the foolishness of my actions. My feet soon carried me away from the edge of the chasm and into a barrow boulevard of crystal hedges.

It was like nothing I had ever seen. On every side mirror images of myself flashed back at me, staring with wide brown eyes. The images showed me my disheveled state, the dirt covered pajama pants, worn out t-shirt and straggly braid. I walked right up to the close reflection and put the tips of my right hand to the crystal. The image didn't copy me and instead lifted her left hand to touch mine. Her somewhat worried expression changed and she smiled, reveling teeth that had a hint of overbite.

"You should try that yourself, it would greatly improve your looks," an imperious voice told me over my shoulder.

I spun around quickly but saw no one there. The reflections of me were the only thing to be seen and they again mimicked my expression.

"Is somebody there? Look, I'm not in the mood to play games." I called out, pushing away from the smiling version of myself.

"Oh, but life would be nothing without games," the voice mocked coming from behind me again.

"I'm too busy with more important things to play games with you," I answered annoyance creeping into my tone.

"You keep saying that," the voice rejoined undiscouraged, "I think it's time to give you a better basis for comparison."

With that a figure appeared beside me in the crystal wall; tall and regal, he smirked at my surprise and more when I backed away from him.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"I am Jareth," he answered and bowed, his lace cuff sweeping the ground for a moment, "Who else?"

"You're Jareth?" I repeated, "The Jareth, the Goblin King?"

"Well," he adjusted his coat collar, "Not quite, but I'm the closest thing you'll find without facing him personally. I am better looking and I think, better tempered. And smarter."

I considered the proud and handsome face, the neat and elegant body, "Oh, really. An image—or copy of Jareth that is his superior?" I said doubtfully. I was regaining my courage since I realized he couldn't come any closer, "Then who am I?"

He smiled then, not a very nice smile I noticed, but a smile none the less, "Let's see," he tapped his fingers against his lips and pretended to muse, "Not Sarah obviously—you're too tall even for her and forgive me, but not as pretty as she was."

"So you don't know," I finished, "Then the game is over."

"No, the game isn't over," he answered childishly, "Because while I don't know who you are—exactly, I can conjure up memories of you from Jareth's past."

"You can?" I feigned disinterest, "I doubt it. I think you're nothing more then the remnants of old half-forgotten recollections and can do nothing of yourself but annoy people and play at baby games."

He flushed red and flung his hand out toward me and I flinched in habit. A moment later a small orb exploded against the wall by my shoulder and colors shifted and swirled in a wild array before blending into shapes. I watched in amazement as I saw pictures of myself burst into existence. First a tiny red baby, and then a round toddler; slowly growing older and older until my seventh birthday when I received my first dollhouse.

The images grew as I followed them along the wall. The reflection of Jareth walked along the wall behind me and commented on each picture we passed.

"Your thirteenth birthday—you cried because you didn't get the shoes you wanted." He said, leaning on some invisible support.

"Mom couldn't afford the brand name," I answered, "I was afraid that the kids at school would make fun of me."

"As if they made any difference," he snorted, "You seemed to come into your own when you reached seventeen."

"Yeah," I looked at my seventeen year old self and nodded with satisfaction; "I woke up one morning and realized that what other people thought didn't really matter. I was a lot happier after that."

"It showed," he waved a long fingered hand to the last image of my twentieth birthday; "You're almost radiant here."

I laid my hands against the crystal and watched the image mimic me. Jareth had seen me, had recorded all my birthdays; all the little trials that came with them. The word spying came to mind, but then he would have had to since he agreed not to influence me, "So let me ask you," I turned to the image Jareth, "Do you know who I am from these pictures?"

He shrugged as if it wasn't important, "You're significant to Jareth—he thought of you often."

"But in what way?" I pressed, "How did he think of me? Happily? Angrily?"

"You're tone isn't very elegant,' he sniffed.

"I want to know." I stepped right up to him. He stepped back involuntarily and fear flashed across his face. He was afraid of me.

"Come on," I coaxed, 'Surly you would know --as close to Jareth as you are."

He weighed this back and forth in his mind and as he did I realized that while he might be representation of what my father had once been he wasn't what my father was now. There was youthfulness, silliness in the image's face that could not even come close to the person my mother had known. This was not the face of one who could fall in love; this Jareth only wanted amusement and praise, not affection, never love.

He clasped his hands behind his back suddenly and shrugged again, "Actually, I can't tell you."

My mouth dropped open, "Why not?"

"_Because_," he said patiently, "I don't know."

"But I thought—"

"Well, you're wrong," he jumped in, "I am only a kind of –shall we say dream?—of Jareth. I exist in this place with many of his dreams and memories but I look on them without knowing the feelings and emotion connected to them."

"Then you can't help me," I sighed and leaned a little forward. He raised a hand as if to touch me, but his fingers seemed to hit his side of the wall.

"But the game isn't played out yet," he said gently.

"What game?" I asked, 'I told you I don't want to play around. I have things to do."

"Don't disregard the game," the image cautioned, "It is your ticket home."

"How do you know?"

Abruptly his hand sank through the wall and clasped my own, his wolfish smile flashing, "Because I said so!"

_**JarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJareth**_

**Reviewer Responses: **

**Yodeladyhoo: I wanted her to have them but I wanted to go about it a totally different way then it is usually handled. She has to discover them and her relation to them without any help. Keep reading!**

**Kalaia: Patience young sprout!**

**Notwritten: Thanks. Strangely enough I find your one word reviews very interesting. They make me want to read other fics more when I see them. Thanks again. **

**Daughter of Olorin: Thank you so much for all your lengthy reviews. It's great to have someone take the time to tell you what they like about your story. I always thought that everyone would have a greater knowledge of her than people usually write. I mean, they were all supposed to be helping Jareth in one way or the other. I've gotta think they knew more about her then meets the eye. Keep reading!**


	8. Here with You Here With Me

Disclaimer: I don't own nothing.

_**Here with You Here with Me**_

By

Jaffee Leeds

Jareth snapped upright.

He had been leaning against his window and gazing at nothing, but then a jolt shot through him. Pain lanced across his frame, his eyes widening with the unfamiliar sensation, his limbs curling inward reflectively. His awareness flew to the waves that rippled through the Labyrinth. Someone was—toying—with his dreams. Someone who had the ability to move the heaven and earth contained in them. Jareth bared his teeth in anger. The end may be coming but he would be damned if someone took its end out of his hands.

With a flick of his finger, twin orbs balanced on his palm, their curved surfaces reflecting back the light of the fading evening sun. Unlike his usual way, Jareth grasped one in each hand tightly before hurling them out over the city, all his strength channeled into their projection. He watched with narrowed eyes as they disappeared into the other side of reality. He would know soon enough who dared to unsettle the dreams of the Goblin King.

_**JarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJareth**_

I hated my senior prom.

I hated the hot gym, the pounding music and mass of hormonal teenage bodies jammed together. I hated the gratuitous profusion of gauzy skirts, cascading curls and cloud of throat clogging perfume. I went stag and I wore a simple black dress and heels; both uncomfortable, both impossible to move in.

Unlike a lot of the other girls I didn't enjoy falling into the arms of whatever guy happened to be closest when I tripped on my train. I danced a few times, but I didn't enjoy being squeezed between fifty sweating couples dancing— so I left early.

As I said, I hated my senior prom. Now with the dream version of Jareth crushing my fingers in his hand to keep me by his side, I realized that the ballroom scene before me was only a glorified translation of the same thing.

We stood on a raised balcony at the top of the room and looked down on a whirling mass of reds, golds, browns and greens. Everyone was masked either elaborately or simply and they spun madly by. It was a glittering spectacle of pomp.

"Isn't it beautiful," the Image beside me commented admiringly. He wore a fine blue coat of velvet and the lace cuff of his shirt grazed my hand where he held mine prisoner.

"You tricked me," I replied and tried to free my hand. He only tightened his grip and tugged me closer, our faces nearly touching.

"The game," he breathed, "must be played out and it must be played out the way I chose."

"Do all the games get played out here?" I gestured to the ballroom its shadowy walls and unseen ceiling hidden by the festoons of draperies that dripped down all around us, "I prefer the real world."

"But this is a far more pleasant place to play," he laughed, releasing my hand "And you're looking much better."

I looked down at the gown I was wearing. When we had entered the ballroom, it had, of its own volition, replaced my dirty pajamas. It was beautiful, I admitted to myself, but it was ridiculous. Sky blue brocade overlaid with gold embroidery was looped up with gold braid that hung about me in gleaming strands. Even my messy hair had been caught up in a woven net.

"Sorry," I answered, "But I look ridiculous in this. I'm not my mother and I'm not fooled by any of this—" I waved my hands toward the party, "—this nonsense."

His only answer was to hand me a mask for my eyes, "You are rather self-centered—I am glad to know it. I was beginning to think you were a heroine," he chuckled, "Actually I brought you here for another reason. Look—the belle of the ball is just arriving. See if you know her."

The press of people parted at that moment to provide a clear glimpse of the young woman who materialized from a doorway. Her long dark hair was around her shoulders and down her back and she was swathed in white and silver from head to toe. She was young and uncertain of her place in the room. Her furrowed brow was very familiar to me.

"It's my mother," I gasped, "What is she doing here?" I whirled on the dream-Jareth, "She can't be here!"

Dream-Jareth leaned against a pillar and examined his nails as I raged at him.

"She isn't here, you idiot." He corrected patronizingly, "As I am only a memory of who Jareth once was—and like me, she is Jareth's memory of her at that time. She and I exist here in an endless reenactment of what once was. Whenever Jareth wishes to remember this time we enter the ballroom," he smiled bitterly, "Everything is the same here, never a step more never a step less. Everything is exactly the same as when your mother was here 27 years ago."

"How-terrible," I moved down the few steps to the dance floor and he quickly followed.

"Look at their faces," he whispered again, "What you see is all that dreams are—emptiness and blank expression."

"But," he stood to full height, "They seem happy enough."

As if to prove him right the assembly exploded in loud laughter. It was the strained, high laughter of the intoxicated, brash and lewd. Dream-Jareth saw the disgust in my face and scowled.

"I would love to hear your thoughts about this further, my dear. But I have a dream to relive." He growled, lifted a horned mask to his face and left me.

I tied my own mask on and followed him to the dance floor. Jareth may play with endless dreams, but I had a mission—get the hell out of here and back to the Labyrinth.

I moved purposefully toward the nearest wall, stepping between couples, over long trains and under the arched arms of the dancers. Their laughter continued to ring in my ears as I watched Sarah make her way through the room. We brushed by each other. Her eyes never registered me and I found I couldn't look her in the face. As it turned out, I was swept up into the dance during my pause.

I looked up at the man who held me and found he wasn't laughing; he was staring at me intently through the eyes of his mask. They were brown eyes, rich and moist and slightly shaded by the red hair that fell over the edge of his mask. I was about to ask him who he was when he pulled me flush against him and brought his mouth to my ear. I pressed my hands against his chest to protest this too intimate movement but he whispered, "Can you see the sunlight?

Comprehension exploded in my brain and I clutched his coat, "Is it you?" I hissed desperately. Out of the corner of my eye my mother stepped into Jareth's arms. The dance shifted and we whirled out of sight.

"Whatever happened to bring you here seems to have snatched me up as well," he explained before twirling me out in a flourish. I came back to his arms and he asked, "Can you get us out of here?"

"I was just going to ask you that," I answered breathlessly, "I'm feeling a little out of it right now."

"The feeling is mutual," he laughed. We paused as the other couples flashed by in a blinding array of color. Unexpectedly, I felt a bubble of happiness well up inside me. I peeked up at him and was suddenly aware of the arms around my waist and the velvet of his sleeve under my fingers. I blushed when he noticed and dropped my eyes from his.

"You look—different," I admitted.

His mouth compressed to a thin line, "Don't be fooled, Emily. The way I look now---it's only an illusion."

"I know," I swallowed, "I know. I'm sorry."

"Why should you be sorry?" he asked.

I didn't answer. My heart was in my throat as my eyes took in the small round sphere that was floating gently through the room. It drifted and swayed as it with the drafts of air rising from the assembly. It was perfectly innocent another ornament for the elaborate ballroom-prison, save for the subtle intent movement so that it surveyed the entire room.

I slipped away from the man's arms not hardily hearing his warning. They crowd somehow parted for me as I raised a hand. I didn't know what I was going to do until the orb swerved toward me. Around me the party was breaking up as Sarah fought her way to the clock that was beginning to chime. Sweat trickled down my face as the sphere came to rest softly in my fingers. As I looked into it—there came the sound of shattering glass and the world fell in.

_**JarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJareth**_

The crystal rolled away from Jareth's heedless fingers, coming to a halt in a dip in the uneven floor. The Goblin King stood feet apart and fists clutched by his sides, hard eyes scorching the landscape below him. Anger, bitter and cold, rose in his throat; the crystal had shown him nothing.

Nothing but a pair of eyes that mirrored his exactly.

_**JarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJareth**_

_Sniff--I didn't any reviews with this last chapter._


	9. Let This Acceptance Take

Disclaimer: I don't own nothing!

_**Let This Acceptance Take**_

**By**

**Jaffee Leeds**

He held me like a child.

And like a child I lay curled in his arms, one hand clutching the edge of his shirt, the other hanging limply in my lap. From the red darkness I watched him smooth my hair away from my face, and I felt –as if from very far away—the touch of his hand on my skin. His lips moved but I didn't hear what he said. I was very pale in the predawn light and helpless as an infant. A few bright drops fell down his cheeks and I saw he was crying over me. I wanted to reach out and assure him I was alright—I was fine.

But again the immobility of the darkness bogged me down and all I could do was wish myself back into my body. I hated the red darkness for separating us, the man and I. A sob shook me in the shadow and curled inward on myself as sadness overwhelmed me.

"I wouldn't have gone on and left you," he was saying, his voice growing nearer as I wept, "I won't leave you now. Not even if the entire world crumbles around us."

"I'm afraid," I heard myself saying it slowly and groggily.

"I am with you." Arms tightening around me.

"I don't know what to do." Helpless again and sobbing.

"Then I will help you." Voice soft against my ear.

"Don't let me go—"

The vision faded and I hit reality with a hard jolt. I slide four or five feet before I snagged my arm on something sharp and, screaming, came to a halt. I dangled hundreds of feet in the air over a chasm of garbage. My right arm had worked between to rungs on an old ladder and twisted, causing my pain, but saving my life. At the bottom of the chasm were the glistening shards of the crystal ballroom.

All around me the cries and wails of people falling and hurting themselves flooded my ears. For a brief second I forgot my pain in the horrible realization that they were dying because I had shattered the dream. But just as their deadly moans reached a fevered pitch, the wind carried them away. They melted from the landscape as if they were so much sand. The wind circled the tower of trash and I shut my eyes against the grit as it reached and passed me by.

And I hung there, my arm lanced with white shooting pain. I was sure I had broken that limb and I was helpless. I tired reaching out with my left arm but the strain on my right only caused blinding white pain to sear through me leaving me gasping for breath. I wanted to vomit; I wanted solid ground under my feet I wanted…

"Don't move," his voice cautioned.

I glanced up, frantic, and saw the man above me. He was crouched on a more stable perch over me and his eyes were glued to my wounded arm and the ladder holding me up.

"My arm's—broken," I sobbed out.

"I know it," he said, still calm, "But don't move again. The ladder isn't very securely anchored and if you struggle too much you'll fall. If you hold on, I think I can get hold of you from a little farther down."

"Hurry," I managed and tried to hold as still as possible. The wind around me didn't help, but I decided that if the ladder was going to be dislodged by the gentle swaying of my body I would have already fallen.

I lost sight of him after that, but I could hear him moving to the left and down side of me. A few bits of junk, empty cans, a cushion and a candlestick went flying to the pit as he moved. I kept waiting for him to dislodge the wrong thing and send us both to our deaths but he never did. He was by my side before I knew it and although I couldn't see him quite because of my position in the air, I could feel his presence behind me.

"I'm just going to reach out and take your other arm, Emily," he explained coolly, "It's going to hurt your broken arm but please don't struggle or faint if you can help it."

"Okay," I gasped.

I waited and soon felt his rough fingers close over my left forearm. As he began pulling me in his direction, pain burst out anew in my arm and I screamed a little, biting it back as best I could. He didn't stop but spoke soothingly to keep me calm. I can't say it worked, but a few painful moments later he had an arm around my waist.

"Can you work your shoulder at all?" he asked.

"A little," I answered, "But I can't move my arm."

"If you can turn your shoulder to the right a little, your arm will fall free," he explained again gently.

"Will it hurt?" I rasped out.

He was silent for a moment then, "Yes, but you can do it. Once your arm is free I can pull you to safety."

"Don't drop me," I hissed and before I could think about it I twisted my shoulder. My arm dropped, yanking the broken bones and I blacked out. The next thing I knew I was half laying on top of the man, his arms around my waist.

"Are you alright?" he asked, muffled.

"I'm in serious pain," I coughed and rolled off him.

I lay on my back, junk from the pile poking into my body in a variety of places. My arm was exploding with agony but I was lying on solid enough ground. The man crouched beside me and examined my arm. His hair was long and white as when I found him; his back not straight, but not the crippling curve either. His face was young and his eyes; they were the same.

"It's definitely broken," he observed, "I don't know how to set it though."

"Neither do I," I said, "I don't want to touch it at all."

"You can't get down from here without setting it somehow," he pointed out, "There's no way I can carry you down, the way is too steep."

"Oh," was all I said.

I just rested there for several long moments. He settled down beside me and we just breathed. I stared up at the lighting sky and felt tears pushing at my eyes. I swallowed them back though; I didn't have time to cry. I had to get out of here, I had to set my arm, I had to find Jareth and I had to save the Labyrinth and I had to do it all alone. I felt despair welling up in me as I realized that I had no way to do any of those things.

"You did something great you know," he said suddenly. I looked up at him, but his eyes were closed, his head back against the junk, "I don't know how you did it, but you took control of the dream somehow."

"I killed those people," I said dully, "I heard them dying."

"No you didn't" he corrected unexpectedly, "They weren't real."

"But I thought that everyone in the ballroom was real. You're—l"

"Emily, that was just a—re-telling of the dream," he said opening his eyes and looking down at me, "None of the people in that room were real but you and me."

I dropped my eyes from his. The pain in my arm was lessening now and I moved a little to get away from whatever was jabbing my right hip.

"What are we going to do?" I asked.

"We have to get down from here first," he stated, "But we have to tie your arm up somehow before we can."

With that he removed the velvet jacket he was wearing, revealing a green waistcoat, and began folding it into a kind of sling. It didn't work very well, because dinner coats are not well suited for sling making, but it came out a rough triangle shape with the two sleeves to go around my neck and shoulder. As the sun crept ever higher, he carefully moved my arm up and into the sling. I won't say it didn't hurt, because it did, but it was soon securely tied to my chest. It wasn't the greatest sling, but at least my arm wasn't jarring around anymore.

"Does it still hurt?" he asked, finishing the knot.

"Yeah," I said, "But it's better out of the way."

"Let me know if anything starts to feel funny," he looked at me and said, "If only there was some way to a physician."

"I didn't think the Labyrinth had them," I said vaguely as we began our downward journey.

"They don't," he added, helping me down a few steps, "The only one who can do anything of the kind is Jareth. I think it's safe to say he won't be helping us any time soon."

I said nothing and he cast me a curious look. I pretended not to notice and soon we were too absorbed in our climb to talk. The truth was I didn't know what to say. I hadn't told him who my parents were. As he lifted me from one perch to another I considered how he might feel if I told him I was the daughter of his lifetime imprisoner. I couldn't blame him if he left me there, stranded on the trash heap and walked away and out of the Labyrinth. But I couldn't be alone now; I had to have his help.

He smiled encouragingly to me, not guessing my thoughts and I realized that if I didn't tell him soon it would be just as bad. Maybe my father was a liar, a deceiver of monumental proportions, but I wasn't. As soon as we reached the bottom, I would tell him and if he left, he left.

By the time we reached the bottom of the mammoth trash heap, sweat was pouring off us and I wished for painkillers and a long hot shower. The man was panting a little, and he had discarded his cravat long ago. He lifted me into his arms and carried me over the crystal, his heavy boots unbothered by the shards.

Setting me down, he collapsed beside me and grinned, looking young for the first time since we'd met.

"Am I so heavy?" I asked ruefully.

"Not as all," he said mopping his brow, "But I haven't exactly been in the best of shape for a good long while. How's your arm?"

"Hurts, but what else is new?" I shrugged and winced, "Did you see which way we should be going? I didn't think to look before we came down."

His smile vanished and he sat forward, running a hand through his long white hair, "I did look." He considered me for a moment, "Why do you need to get to the castle, Emily?"

"To save the Labyrinth," I replied.

He stared at me for a long moment, his eyes searching mine. I waited, the pain in my arm throbbing again. I pushed my hair out of my face and felt the sweat trickling down my back. I wanted to itch it but I couldn't reach the area and his steady gaze wasn't making me feel anymore comfortable. Finally, he spoke.

"Why?"

"Because I have too," I whispered, "You can't understand why."

"Try me," was his rejoinder.

"My—my mother sent me to help save it. She was going to come and help me before she knew that she couldn't get back into the Labyrinth. Jareth barred her way forever," I explained, "He never wanted her coming back after I--" I choked back a little.

"After what? After you were born?" he finished.

Shame flooded me and I nodded, looking away, "I was going to tell you." I added, "You can go freely if you want, I'll understand."

He released a breath he had been holding and stood, blocking the sun that fell over me, "You know I can't do that. I can't just leave you here with a broken arm and the labyrinth falling apart more and more."

"Yes, you can," I answered strongly and stood, "I can handle it from here. You're not chained to me."

"I know it," He shot back, "But I can't leave you here for more then the reason that you saved me."

"Why?"

"Because I have to think of my own peace of mind," He said quietly, "I would be just as imprisoned by guilt as I was by every other emotion."

I felt as if he'd hit me. Here I thought he might come along because he actually wanted to. I shook my head inwardly and realized that I couldn't expect so much from him, after all he'd suffered it wouldn't be realistic to hope for more.

"And," he went on, jarring me from my thoughts, "It's not your fault your father is who he is."

"I don't know what to say," I managed.

He took my uninjured arm and we became walking again, "Just do me one favor will you?"

"Yes?"

"Don't try to keep things from me anymore." He said.

"How did you guess?" I asked, thinking of the ballroom and the experience with the Wiseman.

"I knew the first time I saw you," he said, tapping his cheeks under each eye, "Only Jareth could have given you those eyes."

I wrinkled my nose at him in confusion until he turned me to a large fragment of broken mirror that lay close to us. Through the layer of grim and dust that had collected there I saw our reflection. My hair was a wild tangle, having worked its way out of my braid. I was dirty and my arm was swaddled up in a coat. I looked like hell. But what stopped my heart were my eyes.

One was brown and one was blue.

_**JarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJareth**_

**Reviewer Responses: **

**Yodeladyhoo: **As you already know, it's not where I got the name but thanks for giving it so much thought. I hope you liked this chapter as well. Keep reading!

**Pb**: I hope I can keep your interest throughout. Keep reading and keep me honest. If you think it sucks let me know.

**In2thedarkness18: **I'm so glad you like this. I hope you continue to find it out of the norm. I'm trying to make it unique and Labyrinth based without being too weird about it. Keep reading!

**Avitergirl: **I love Bevel and Sybil too. I hope to have them again in the next chapter. Until then!

**Queen of the Nymphs: **Thanks for the review, but don't choke to death! Keep reading!

**Lanthe:** Sorry if this update was slower then the others, but midterms at college and all. I hope to up date more regularly again. Please keep reading, I find your reviews very encouraging!

**Daughter of Olorin: **I understand about the whole keeping up with updates thing. FF has been a little sticky about sending e-mail notices and review alerts lately. I'm sure we all have a lot on our plates. Thanks for the long and thoughtful review, I love them. Keep reading.

Anyone who said that Jareth didn't have a sense of humor didn't know him.

After all, what kind of Goblin King do you have to be to install a landfill into your kingdom? There was something so modern about it—so human. At any rate, that was all I could think of as I lay in the heap of trash I had landed in. Something sharp was digging into my lower back and I lay as if poised on the edge of something so I held very still; hardily daring to breathe.


	10. The Noble Sinews of our Power

Disclaimer: I don't own nothing!

_**The Noble Sinews of our Power **_

**By**

**Jaffee Leeds**

_Now are we well resolved; and, by God's help,  
And yours, the noble sinews of our power,  
France being ours, we'll bend it to our awe,  
Or break it all to pieces_

I was beginning to understand my father.

Oh, I don't mean that I could fathom the intents behind his thought process or the meaning behind the twisted mazes that explained his emotional make-up. Rather, I was beginning to understand why my mother had defeated him and why he was letting the Labyrinth die. And what frightened me about this understanding was the knowledge that I was exactly like him.

My father, an immortal, had never learned to be— for lack of a better word, human. When we're born we begin to learn about all the important things in life. Typically we understand love and hate, right and wrong at a fairly early age. We are raised in a world where emotions are free and easy within the range of social acceptance. It seems that more and more emotions are becoming the ruling voice. But we don't mind that, we can understand emotions—we know most how people think and feel. Those who don't fit into the spectrum are shuttled aside as misfits.

I shivered as I realized that Jareth, and soon I, would be labeled misfits because Jareth had never learned the boundaries of emotion. He didn't know how to control them. In all likelihood, power had come first, selfish next and finally the first inkling of feeling; loneliness. Mom had taught him about real love and loyalty, which was why he had let her take me. He had learnt enough to know he didn't know enough to raise me properly and I was going to be faced with eternity just like him.

"You're very quiet," the man remarked as we walked. We had left the landfill an hour ago and were stumbling along the crumbling remains of what had once been a complex part of the Labyrinth.

"My arm hurts," I mumbled. He caught me as I fell forward over a lose brick. Our eyes met briefly and I shook myself free, "And I'm dead thirsty."

"Right, I'll keep my eyes open for water," he said. We walked on in silence.

We hadn't really been talking since the ballroom. A new awkwardness had sprung up between us and my preoccupation with my eyes had caused the silence to become suffocating. In a surprise turn, he was the one trying to get me to talk and I was sinking into stillness. Swallowing my pride, I tried to compromise.

"We need to find you a name," I said suddenly.

"What?" he glanced at me sharply, "No we don't. I have a name."

"No, you have a name you've forgotten," I pointed out, "And I can't keep calling you 'man' all the time. It's boring."

"I'd prefer it if we left the name business alone," he said, "I've been trying to recall it."

"And?"

"I think it begins with an A," he replied, "Or B—something along those lines."

"That's helpful," I said ruefully, "Andrew? Barabbas? What about Androcles? Or Benjamin?"

"I don't think so," he said a small smile crinkling the corners of his eyes; "I have a sort of idea it's simpler than those names."

"A simpler name," I mused. We stopped to consider two pathways' and I continued to think out loud, "Maybe, you're name is Adam, or Abel?"

He froze, "Say that again?"

"What? Adam or Abel?" I asked.

He stared hard at me for a moment before shaking his head, "No, I thought for a moment that you had said it but—I think we should go right here. It'll take us closer to the castle walls."

"But that is as far as we'll go," I said, "If we go left we'll come closer to the castle and we won't have a massive wall between us and city."

"How do you know?" he asked curiously.

"I don't—" I hesitated and thought hard, "I couldn't say, but you have to trust me."

He gave me a sidelong glance, his brown eyes narrowing even so slightly, "I do. I wish you would believe me."

"What about Bert? Is your name Bert?" I changed the subject. I took his free hand in mine.

"I hope not," He squeezed my hand gently, "I think I can hear water."

We hurried with unseemly haste and rounded a corner to find, not water but something far, far better. A river!

**_JarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJareth_**

Jareth balanced the crystal on his left first finger, propping his chin on his knee. He was folded up in the window of his room. The vacuum of silence from the empty castle served as good background music for his contemplation. The goblins were gone; they had gone as surely as he had let them slip from existence. The chickens, oddly enough, had lasted somewhat longer, but even now they were gone. Slowly he let the fibers that held the Labyrinth fray and fall into nothingness.

Besides, the girl— not an ordinary girl—was more interesting. She had fought her way free and she had taken the prisoner with her. Not only that, but the prisoner had saved her and protected her even when he realized who she was. Jareth shook his head; he didn't believe her. A measure of power might belong to her, but she was not his child—she wasn't beautiful enough to belong to him—not beautiful enough to belong to Sarah.

Jareth let the crystal roll down his arm and into nothingness. Closing his dual colored eyes on the world he began to erase the remaining Labyrinth from his mind. The False Alarms went with quiet dignity, the Fireys with out raged surprise and the Bog with a discontented plop. Jareth frowned; something was invading his thoughts, a sound high and whiny.

"Your Majesty?"

"Shhh! He's sleeping!" a gruff voice interrupted.

"Sod off, Bevel! He's goin' wake up soon! Your Majesty!"

"Your gonna get us both killed if you don't sto—"

"What are you doing here?" Jareth snapped, his eyes flying open and blazing with light. He stood and bore down on the crouching goblin pair at the door. They clung to each other desperately; their mouths open in horror, the snake nearly strangling the rat. He was about to lift a foot to send them flying when he scooped them up instead.

Bringing his face near them his hissed, "Where did you come from?"

"Here, sire, we're from here," the rat gulped, "Don't you remember us? Bevel and Sybil."

"There shouldn't be any goblins around here anymore," Jareth grated out, "Do you see any others here?"

"No," Sybil whined babyishly, "Where'd they do?"

"Into nothingness," the Goblin King said, "Where we will all be soon enough."

"Ooohhhhh! I don't want to be not nothing!" she wailed, "Bevel, she won't let him turn us into not nothing!"

Jareth's eyes lit at her words and he closed his fist over Bevel's throat, "Who—is—she?"

Straining to breathe, Bevel whispered, "Your daughter, sire. Emily. She's a comin' to help you save the Labyrinth, but she's hurt and needs help."

Bevel and Sybil hit the floor with a bump. Stars danced before their eyes and when they cleared all they saw was Jareth's back as he stalked down the nearest staircase. Sybil slithered away from Bevel and sighed as she watched the Goblin King throw the doors of the castle wide as he stormed through them.

"I fink it worked," she said softly.

Bevel gave a cough, "Good, coz my froat wasn't gonna last much longer."

**_JarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJareth_**

I don't drink.

Even when I had the chance I never drank. It didn't have anything to do with the fact that I wasn't of legal age. Anyone who's been in public school can tell you that most teenagers have been exposed to alcohol before they've left high school and most of them know what it's like to be drunk. My chances of being drunk or merely drinking were pretty good, but I just chose not too.

Still, as we lay on the bank of the river, our mouths wet and satisfied, I felt what it was to be drunk even if it was simply water.

"Good God, I've never tasted water like that," the man gasped, "I feel it all the way to my fingers and toes."

"It's wonderful," I said, "And there's plenty of it."

The man rolled to his stomach and looked down the bank, chin on his hands, "The strange thing is I don't remember there having been as river here before."

"Who cares?" I drawled, my eyes drooping, "It's there now—" I yawned and snuggled into the grass, "I think I'll just take a little nap."

"I think I'll do the same," he said drowsily, "I'm pretty beat."

I didn't answer; I was sleeping.

The strange thing was that as I slipped into sleep, I slipped into the red darkness. My first instinct was to panic and wake up, but something held me back. My own curiosity got the better of me and I lingered. I relaxed mentally without dropping my guard and nothing happened. I floated in the red darkness and felt as if I was sleeping while being keen aware of everything going on around me.

"You're farther along then I expected," a voice said to me. It was calm and spoke somewhere outside my range of vision. Undisturbed, I answered dreamily.

"Why shouldn't I be? I'm not afraid of it anymore—there's nothing to be afraid of."

"No, indeed, but there are very few people who could agree with you—very few."

"Why?"

I felt a rippled of laughter quake through the darkness as the voice answered, "Because for many people there is nothing beyond blackness here. If your companion were here that is all he would see. Their eyes are shut to the beauty of the Labyrinth."

"The Labyrinth? But this isn't the Labyrinth--" I protested.

"Isn't it?" The voice was amused, "What you need to learn is that the Labyrinth is more than a forest of trees or an assortment of mazes, traps and pitfalls. It is a living breathing organism that shifts and changes. This—darkness that you see is the very essence of that organism."

"Oh," I felt understanding bubble up through my brain. I blinked and watched as the darkness swirled and melded together creating the shadows of the landfill, the Wiseman's courtyard, the oubliette and the castle. As I thought of each place it began to form in the darkness, "Wow."

Again the ripple of laughter, "And there is more, much more. Think of yourself and your companion—create your images in your mind."

I shifted as I obeyed. I was beginning to recognize the voice; soft yet commanding and very English. I brought up the image of the man and I and saw us laying on the bank sleeping. We looked very peaceful. There was nothing on my sleeping face to tell of what I was going through. We lay there is all shades of red.

"Good," the voice went on, "Now look at them with all your sight. What do you see?"

"We're not all there," I hesitated, "I mean, we're there but there is an element missing in each of us."

"Yes and what is that?" the voice sounded nearer, solidifying into a definite source.

"I don't know—" frustration manifested itself in a brighter tinge of red around the picture of us; "I can't tell what's wrong."

The voice spoke then right into my ear, "Your arm is broken."

"Yes," I answered dully, "But I can't fix that."

"Can't you? Well, then—" and I watched as a gloved hand reached out passed me toward the image and turned the open palm, spreading the fingers slightly, "I will turn the workings of your injury this way—on our side of reality," he whispered.

"I don't see a difference," I replied, feeling warmth of presence radiating off the person behind me, "I don't _feel _a difference."

"You will," the voice reassured, "And for the man, as you call him, what is he missing?"

"His memories," I answered without hesitating, "He can't remember anything about his life before the Labyrinth," I fell silent for a long moment but he didn't offer any suggestions and so I timidly spoke up, "In the oubliette, memories are taken away aren't they? Absorbed into the darkness."

"Very good," the hand touched my shoulder in the darkness and I realized I was standing up right, "You're further along than you think. He should be grateful."

"So I can give him back his memories," I moved away from the voice and felt a tightening on my arm, keeping me from going too far, "I can find his past here."

"Beware of what you bring back, not all memories are worth restoring," the voice warned, "Not all dreams have happy endings."

"I know," I held up my hands, pale red in the darkness, "I can control it can't I?"

"Yes," tense, cautious and very low.

"Good," I searched the darkness quickly, trying to pull at anything that reminded me of the man. A few scenes flitted before my eyes, the man with a young woman and children, the man wandering in the Labyrinth; the man deserting his family. I watched him become drunk on his fantasies in the ballroom and I felt sickness coil coldly in my belly. He was drunk and silly, pleasure blinding his sense and mind. He was spiraling rapidly into death.

He was destroying himself.

"No! Do something!" I cried.

"What?" the voice demanded, "You tell me."

"I don't know! You have to take him away from there! Away from the ballroom!"

"And what then? He'll find his way back without repenting it."

"But there must be some way to help him! To free him from this life." I felt a sob working its way up my throat, "There has to be some way."

"There is—but _death_ is an ugly word."

"Then," I nearly choked on my own words, "then put him in an oubliette!"

_"Now you understand."_

Suddenly I was sitting up, my fingers grabbing handfuls of grass, as I sucked great breaths of air into my lungs. I was trembling badly and cold sweat ran down my face. A gentle chuckle was fading away on the wind and I followed it, seeing for the first time, the red thread of its existence on the backdrop of the Labyrinth. I lifted my right arm and flexed my fingers; my arm was whole. Slipping the jacket over my head, I crawled to where the man lay.

Tremblingly, I touched his face, "It's time to go," I said, "We have to go now."

His brown eyes opened slowly and he gaze focused on the sky for a long moment. Turning them on me he said, "Emily, my name is Abner."

_**JarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJareth**_

**Avitargirl: **He didn't have a name before this chapter. I hope you liked it. Keep reading!

**Lanthe: **Sorry my chapters aren't longer, but that's how this story is coming out. Thank you so much for the compliments about my writing. It is so easy to doubt yourself and wonder if you're anywhere near what you want when you write a story. Your comments mean a lot to me. Keep reading!

**Yodeladyhoo: **Your screen name always makes me smile! And I love the way you refer to Abner as the 'Oubliette Man', I'm almost tempted to make that a story! Keep reading!

**Sintar: **Thank you so much! I'm glad you think so. I hope you'll keep reading it too!

**Sky Girl Butterfly: **Of course I don't hate you! Especially after this little typo in your last review! _You are an extremely god writer! _I got a good laugh out of that one. Please keep reading!

**Chaos'babe: **I hope you like this chapter. More Jareth in the next chapter! I luv him!

**Daughter of Olorin: **You know I always look forward to your reviews! There always nice and long. I'm glad you liked that little tidbit. I was going to use that as the beginning of the last chapter, but just couldn't get it working. Ah well, I'm glad you liked it. Keep reading!


	11. You Belong to Earth

Disclaimer: I don't own nothing!

_**You Belong to Earth**_

**By**

**Jaffee Leeds**

We couldn't stop talking after that.

"Abner! Why didn't I think of that?" I kept saying.

We kept up a steady pace for hours. The sleep had done us a world of good and we trucked along covering more ground in an afternoon then both days before. We could see the castle clearly now and only a short span of space of maze and the Goblin city separated us from our goal. The sun was high and bright and, to my eyes at least, it was brighter and yellow-er than I had ever seen it. Everything was changing around me and I didn't have to do anything.

I caught Abner watching me but every time I looked back his head would snap around like he wasn't doing anything. But every time he glanced at me I felt he was holding back from saying something, every time he helped me over a log or over a wall or something there was a strange sensation in his touch. Feeling a little giddy from the experience in the darkness with Jareth—I was sure it was him; I didn't hesitate to ask Abner what was going on.

"Nothing," Abner replied blandly. We rounded a corner and found a dead-end. After considering our route we turned back and started off in a new direction.

"You were looking at me again," I said pointedly, "You're watching me."

"You are the only other person around; I have nothing else to look at," he countered. He was walking taller than ever and had tied his hair back with a bit of string. His face was still hidden under the beard, but I was getting used to it.

"I can't tell you how good that makes me feel," I quipped dryly, "Especially since I look so glamorous," I spun in my ratty pajamas and pirouetted a few feet before wobbling off balance.

"Graceful too," Abner's eyes twinkled with mirth, "I'm so lucky to have you as a guide. Though I suppose I shouldn't anger you—there's always the Bog of Eternal Stench to hold over my head."

"The what?" I plopped back to my flat feet, "What is that?"

"How can you not know about the Bog?" he asked shock widening his eyes, "I thought everyone knew about it!"

I held up empty hands, "Betty Brainless here, you have to tell me."

"Very well," we walked on as Abner filled me in on the various parts of the Labyrinth I didn't know about.

I learned about the endless corridor that went on in two directions forever and how easy it was to overcome once you didn't trust the illusion of walls. Abner told me about the Double-Speaking Guards and the Helping Hands. I have to confess that Helping Hands sounded creepy and disgusting; Abner said he had encountered them early on in his journal through the Labyrinth and had actually said the right thing; up.

"Apparently few people ever think to ask for that," he commented, "Without realizing it I had escaped an early placement in the oubliette."

"Yeah," I didn't meet his eyes. The whispered conversation with my father made me feel guilty. Pretending not to notice Abner went on.

"Anyway, from there I found my way into a tricky mist filled forest with a bad habit of misleading people for weeks. The inhabitants are not the friendliest people in the world."

"There are people living in the Labyrinth?" I was surprised, "I thought there were only goblins."

"No, they're kind of goblin we call the Fireys," Abner gave me a curious sidelong look, "You don't seem to know much of anything dealing with the Labyrinth."

"I've never been here," I reminded him, "My mother never told me anything about it."

"Still, you are Jareth's daughter," Stopping, he propped a foot on a fallen log. Musing quietly for several long moments, "And—Sarah never told you about your father or the Labyrinth?"

"Never," I explained, "She was trying to protect me from him, Jareth. And I don't think she wanted to tell me about the Labyrinth because –Well, look at this place!"

I threw my arms wide, "Would you tell anyone about a land where they could become lost in their dreams? Even if they succeeded in conquering their dreams who would want to leave this place? It's beautiful."

Abner's eye darkened, "I think there are few who would agree with you."

I stopped dead.

"What did you say?"

"I said that I don't think there are a lot of people who agree that this—place is beautiful," Abner said carefully. He let his foot drop and stood, "I would be one of them."

I said nothing. There was nothing to say. I felt guilt wash over me as I followed him along the path we had chosen. I watched his foot prints stirring the dirt and noticed the little swirls of red they left behind as my eyes began to take apart and reassemble the fabric of the Labyrinth. Abner didn't notice and I realized it was because he was merely human; he couldn't see things the way I could.

"_Merely human?"_

The words whispered through my mind in the voice of my father. I whipped around and looked everywhere but it was only me and Abner. Again, Abner was unaware of what was going on. I wasn't about to alert him. Mental dialogue was new but fairly easy.

"_Good, he wouldn't understand anyway."_ The voice continued.

"He's a good man," I countered mentally, "He's a better man than you."

"_I can't argue with that,"_ the Jareth said lightly, _"Because I am not a man—not a mortal man."_

"You know that makes it easier for me to hate you," I replied, I was beginning to bring up a mental image of what I thought Jareth looked like but nothing beyond David Bowie came to mind.

"_Why should you hate me?"_ he questioned. His voice was so close I almost felt that he was walking beside me, _"I've never given you any reason to hate me."_

"You've never given me reason to love you," was my simple reply, "And your offence against Abner is reason for me to hate you."

He snorted arrogantly, _"I've explained to you why I did what I did to this man."_ He said man as if he were a dog, or a cat. I bristled, _"You should understand the reasoning there."_

"I do—" I felt him swell with pride, "—to a point. You forget you're the one who brought him here and created the temptations of the Labyrinth. You can't pretend to be merciful when you're the cause of his problems."

"_You still don't understand do you?"_ he was losing patience, _"The temptations as you so appallingly term them, are of your own making. Each one creates his own weakness and each one dreams his own dreams. My Labyrinth only obeys them."_

"But it's your Labyrinth, it revolves around you. Nothing works without you," I said angrily. I felt flushed and annoyed, "And you command it!"

No answer. I stopped in my tracks and stamped my foot.

"Answer me damn it!" I yelled.

Abner turned, "What?"

I ignored him, "Jareth! Jareth! Answer me!"

"What's wrong with you!" Abner shouted, "Don't summon him!"

I realized too late he was right. I watched a red cloud descend on Abner and I screamed. There was a pulling sensation, a wrenching pain in my gut-- and I was alone. The wind whistled lightly through the passages of stone, kicking up a whirlwind of dust. I fell to my knees in agony, I couldn't even cry. Consciousness blurred and I saw a haze of white before my eyes. Breath whistled between my teeth, it sounded strange and hallow in my ears. I was falling forward and couldn't stop myself. The rocky ground rushed up to me and I closed my eyes, waiting for the pain of impact.

It never came.

_**JarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJareth**_

He had never held his child.

Physical touch was something that taken Jareth some time to get accustomed to. It was important Sarah who touched, hugged and caressed everyone she loved in some way. Jareth had watched this without understanding until he realized it was her way of expression emotions of affection. With every touch she was saying the words that Jareth had coveted.

_I love you._

He hadn't understood until after she was far out of reach. She had finished the Labyrinth and gone home and he had sent her without once touched her skin. He had danced with her certainly, but layers of fabric that separated at intimate touch. His own habit of wearing gloves had annoyed him beyond belief when he realized he didn't know the feeling of her cheek under his fingers, the softness of her hand in his. The realization had gnawed on him in the passing years as longing ate away at his soul and spirit.

Finally he had gone to her. He wasn't going to wait until she called for him because she might never say his name or even his title again. Immortal he might be, heartless, no. He had gone to her in fear and trembling, feverish and shaking that she might turn away that pretty head and refuse him with her sweet lips. But he had offered her his love and a share in his life, humbly, lovingly. And she had fallen in his arms in gratitude and relief; her pain had been as great, but her own pride had kept her back. Without considering he had kissed her, claiming her mouth with his and pulling her to him so tightly there were bruises on her arms the next day. But they didn't care, neither of them.

Once she was his, Jareth understood touch. He learned the joy of watching her lean into his hand when he stroked her cheek and fell against him when he kissed her neck. The fire that was generated by their love making that scorched him too deeply to forget the wonder of touch.

And when she pulled away from him he had felt the gut wrenching agony of loss. He lost her warmth during the nights and found the bed too large and empty without her. And he pretended he didn't care when she had left him completely; it was easier to lose her if she wasn't present to taunt him with her loss.

And he had never held his child.

Now as he cradled the limp form of his daughter in his arms, Jareth felt a rush of pain come crashing over him. She was so weak and small in his arms; suddenly powerless, helpless and young--so unbelievably young. He rested her dark head against his shoulder and lifted her easily into his arms. He felt the flutter of her heartbeat against his chest and felt wonder at the knowledge that this child…his child, lay in his arms for the first time.

Laying her gently on the soft grass beside the path, Jareth laid his hand along Emily's face, feeling the tiny pulse of blood through her veins. It was the song of life he had loved in Sarah, fainter in their daughter, but present with all the wonder he had found in Sarah. She stirred under his touch.

"Hurts," she gasped weakly.

"Make it go away," he encouraged softly.

"Can't," she whimpered childishly.

"Yes, you can," he reassured.

"Can't," she repeated and curled toward him, seeking comfort.

Gathering her toward him, Jareth whispered, "You must. I will not do it for you."

"Please--" Emily whimpered again and pulled weakly on his coat, "Can't."

"No," he said firmly, "You must heal yourself. Go to the darkness."

She fell silent, but ceased her struggling. Her breathing grew steady and as it did he looked into the darkness and saw her there. She stood, her mouth open in surprise watching him holding her body. Tears stood out in crystalline relief against her dual-colored eyes and she had wrapped her arms around herself as if in protection. They stared at one another for a long, long moment. A life time slipped by between them as the years fell away and they knew--knew who they were.

"I don't--" she faltered, "I don't know what to do now."

He understood her, "Do what you came to do."

'What's said is said," she repeated his famous words as her own. He smiled; she knew what they meant now.

"Yes," he encouraged, "I cannot bring it back on my own anymore. I have let go too much to claim back."

"But I will," she answered, her words timidly arrogant, "I can."

"Then do," he answered. He released her body carefully and walked into the darkness with her. He pointed to the wound that bled inwardly in her physical body.

"Do," he repeated, "And come to me at the castle."

"Can't I go with you now?" she asked quickly.

He bent his head over her, thoughtfully, the frosty strands of blond hair glowing in the strange light, "No. No, you cannot come with me. Save yourself and come to me." He cupped her cheek again and she didn't shy away from him, "Remember, Emily, you belong to earth."

_**JarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJareth**_

**Yodeladyhoo: **A writer always likes to hear that they're improving! Thanks so much. I'm glad you like the name. I had a deuce of a time deciding on what I was going use. Keep reading!

**Avitergirl: **Yes, Jareth was the voice but I don't think he's creepy. And you have to remember that neither Jareth nor Emily for that matter are strictly human so they will react to emotions and things differently than we would. Keep reading!

**Sintar: **I hope you liked it! Keep reading and reviewing!

**Sky Girl Butterfly: **Ah! Your reaction is actually what I was hoping for! It's hard to understand the working mind of Jareth and the Labyrinth--that's what makes it so interesting! Keep reading.

**Daughter of Olorin: **Now, does your name mean you're the daughter of Gandalf? I think I heard somewhere that Olorin was Gandalf's name before he was--eh--Gandalf. Anyway-- and remember that an addiction to Labyrinth fan fiction is not illegal! Thank God!

**lanthe: **Thank you so so so much! I didn't want this story to be a regurgitation of every other Lab fic in this section. Enjoy!


	12. An Expression of Doubt

Disclaimer: I don't own nothing!

_**An Expression of Doubt **_

**By**

**Jaffee Leeds**

Each mortal thing does one thing and the same:  
Deals out that being indoors each one dwells;  
Selves- goes itself; _myself_ it speaks and spells,  
Crying _What I do is me: for that I came._

_--_Gerard Manley Hopkins

What would you have done?

After healing your own body without medicine or even physical connect and talking to your father who just happens to be king of the goblins. In all honestly, what would you do?

I think I did what any normal girl would do. I walked toward the castle in a daze. For about an hour I walked in total silence and without a genuine thought in my head. My mind didn't register the Underground world around me or the fact that the gravel was cutting my bare feet. I realized this later when my brain snapped back on.

As I said it was about an hour later that I came back to the land of the living and saw that I had reached the outer gates of the Goblin City. Up until this point I wasn't sure what I was expecting, the slums of 17th century London? The orphanage from the movie Oliver? Maybe even a Soho tenement. Whatever I had expected, I was unprepared for the tidy quaintness of the city.

Street after street of neat little two story houses met my eyes. They were perfectly constructed little homes even if some of they leaned out in odd angles. My architect's eye could see the clever way in which each one had been built to give it a solid foundation without sacrificing the creative angles each was formed by. Even the windows were fitted with special glass panes to suit the unique frames.

Tiny rain barrels stood under gutter pipes and some of the houses had handkerchief gardens where flowers and herbs grew alike. And there was something terribly sweet about the lines of washing that flapped in the dry wind. Everything pointed to the contented existence of a race of small creatures with a taste for the odd. It was different, but not evil or repulsive. It surprised and saddened me.

It was the perfect picture of contented existence but for one thing; there were no goblins living there. Every single one was gone without a trace. Looking around I couldn't see a particle of the red dust that indicated life in the Labyrinth. It was all drab brown and tan as if the color of life was leeched away when the goblins had gone. I couldn't help shivering at the knowledge that at any moment the whole city might disappear with me in it.

But could it? I felt the power of the Labyrinth running just below my skin. As the edges of the Underground frayed I was hideously aware of its loss. Although it was not the same wrenching pain that I had experienced with Abner's loss, it was like a slow headache lurking just behind your eyes. I pushed through the city with a growing sensibility of losing time.

It bothered me that I could be so aware of loss while still living, breathing and thinking as if nothing was happening. It was a mocking reminder that I wasn't an oblivious human or the all knowing Jareth, but a creature bound up of both worlds that must bear the burdens of both. It wasn't fair.

Jareth was waiting for me in the castle. I knew, without having seen him there or known of the place before hand, that he was waiting on a balcony above the throne room. I knew too that he was watching my progress through the city with as much attention as he had watched my mother nearly 27 years before.

But I wasn't storming the castle in search of my baby brother. I wasn't accompanied by loyal friends or even waylaid by hordes of goblin warriors. No dead-end streets would confuse or misled me, I knew where I was going and what's more, I knew why.

Because Jareth was worth saving.

I didn't care about my father because he was a good man. That, I think, has always been out of his reach. I did not even care about him because he was my father. I'd known enough crappy biological fathers to put much stock in the strength of blood ties. No; I cared because he was the center of a world that was wonderful and beautiful, a world that was everything to multitudes of strange, but _innocent_ creatures.

I finally stopped in a minuscule courtyard on the edge of the city. It was paved with flagstones and centered on a rectangular fountain decorated with gnomes with Asian eyes. On one side a smooth wall of about shoulder height curved around the road that wound up to the castle which shot up into the sky. It was far larger than I had thought, and peered over the Labyrinth with brooding air. Night was rapidly advancing on me and the temperature had dropped several degrees. I suddenly wondered if there was even a winter in the Underground.

"Are you kidding me?"

I whirled around and was confronted with a mirror image of myself. She stood there, arms crossed and an incredulous expression on her face.

"Who are you?" I demanded roughly.

"I would think it was obvious," she snorted giving me a significant look.

"Okay, let me clarify. What are you?"

This seemed to be the right question because the image immediately answered, "I am a subconscious expression of your natural doubt concerning saving Jareth and the Underground from total destruction."

"If you were a subconscious expression of doubt you wouldn't appear in visible form," I countered defensively, "You could only appear in a dream."

"Aha, but even your subconscious is aware that in the underground dreams are a reality," she shot back.

I threw up my hands and headed for the castle road, "I don't have time for this."

She appeared ahead of me on the road, "You're saying that because you can't face the fact that Jareth's a douche bag and not worth a plug nickel."

"I do not think Jareth's a douche bag," I marched around her, 'And because it's true, I don't have the time."

"But you do. You do and even at this point you've been hoping that someone would come along and present you with reasonable doubt about your decision. I am here as a result of this wish. Look, I'm even wearing your clear thinking clothes."

She was right. The faded jeans and hideous argyle sweater were the clothes I wore when trying to focus and concentrate while studying. The image's face smiled in triumph, "Admit it, you're not sure."

I considered her for all of two seconds, "Goodbye."

She reappeared reclining on a low wall several yards ahead of me, "Think of what you'll tell Mom, and what she'll say when you tell her what a great father Jareth really is. Not to mention how much you've come to admire him."

"I don't admire him," I almost yelled, "Go away!"

"But you're beginning to care about him. You're looking for reasons to like him."

"I don't have to look for reason; he has good qualities."

"You're only saying that because it touches your heart that he came to your rescue and cradled you so tenderly," she made a mocking motion with her arms as if she was rocking a baby.

"It was sweet," I spat, "I know he cares about me."

I shoved her neatly off the wall and onto the ground with a thud. Walking on I noticed her keeping pace with me. Our strides matched exactly.

"So, Jareth cares about you. That's why he abandoned you as an unborn baby, stayed out of your entire life, made you heal yourself and then told you to come to him instead of the other way round? Either way, it sounds bad."

"You know what?" I whirled on the image until we stood nose to nose. Our dual-colored eyes glared at each other and I knew our expression was identical, "He does care about me. He cared about me then and he cares about me now. I know that he left me with mom because she was the best parent for me. I know he cared about me enough to stay away when my mother asked him too. You know that if I had been exposed to both worlds as a child I wouldn't have developed normally at all."

"Why?"

"Because I am part of the Labyrinth," I held up a hand in her face, "Because I feel it here and here," I touched my heart, "Because my entire life I've felt as if there was something more, something greater than my everyday world. Only now I know what it is and how it works. Jareth has only been showing me how to know it and myself completely."

"And the kidnapped babies? Is that part of knowing yourself completely? Are you a heartless kidnapper?"

I felt like I'd been slapped. There was no emotion in her voice, no sentiment besides dead honesty. The breath escaped my lungs as my mind whirled.

"I don't know," I finished lamely, "I don't know. Maybe they're happier here as goblins than living in homes where they aren't really wanted."

"What about Toby? He was definitely wanted; even Mom admitted that much once Jareth took him." The image circled me challengingly.

"But he wasn't really there for Toby at all, "I answered slowly, "He was there for Mom. Jareth was always there for Mom."

"But Jareth wasn't in love with all the parents and brothers and sisters that ever wished away the babies. How do you explain that?"

"I can't," I straightened suddenly and firmly faced the image, "But that doesn't mean that Jareth should die, and it doesn't automatically condemn the Underground to the void. Now, I understand you being here for reasonable doubt and you've certainly expressed that. But now you have to go because I'm going up to the castle and I am confronting Jareth regardless of what you say. So you might as well take yourself off and do something useful."

She shrugged, "Alright, suit yourself. You always do."

I stopped her with a hand on her arm, "Thank you, I needed to face to the facts even if I didn't change my mind."

She looked from my hand to my face, disbelief all over her features, "You do realize you just thanked yourself for being sensible?"

"Yeah, but what's life without a little self congratulation once in a while?"

"My God, but you're Jareth's daughter!

She vanished with a puff of red dust, the sight of which made me hopeful that maybe; just maybe the Labyrinth wasn't beyond saving. I continued up the path to the castle, my eyes glued to the massive double doors. They were going to be hard to open for me but they were the last barrier between me and Jareth and after that---who knew?

_**JarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJareth**_

Jareth secured the doors of the castle without locking them. Considering Emily's growing potential, Jareth wasn't about to make things too easy for her. His footsteps echoed hollowly in the vast halls of the citadel, but Jareth wasn't seeing the vaulting ceilings or the archers of windows that let in the light of the waning day. All the boundless energy and dangerous attention of the Goblin King was focused wholly on his child.

As Jareth's long legs carried him from room to room, he was casting loose a series of crystals, obstacles that Emily would have to pass before she could come to him. Hesitation never stayed his hand. The worry that his daughter wouldn't know how to face each problem was something Jareth would have to risk. Sarah had managed to conquer the Labyrinth with amazing ease. Perhaps he had held back somewhat with her, but not with his child. The very nature of Emily's being meant that he couldn't leave anything to chance.

Reaching the throne room, Jareth paused in the archway to look back down the corridor that severed the rooms and led right to him. To the casual observer it was nothing more then a series of empty, bar walled rooms; to Emily it would be a series of dead traps and puzzles. She could die by any of the means he had prepared. And again, she might come through them more than conqueror.

And yet—

She would be able to see the traps, the tests and she would see him watching her. It was a possibility that she would not risk her own death to save his. She had no reason to save him. At any moment, his daughter could leave the Underground and let the chips fall where they might. Emily was not Sarah. In his confrontation with Emily there would be no theatrical stage of a fragmented world, no ghostly vestments of white and alabaster and no offering of dreams.

All would be harsh reality and sharp edges. Jareth would present himself in the fullest realization of authenticity. Black was the color of reality, a color of definition----the color of death. Everything he wore was black without the glint of magic. Only the pale golden hair that framed the angular features was not touched with the deathly hue. Only that and the dual-colored eyes that watched the door.

_**JarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJareth**_

**Yodeladyhoo: **I love getting your reviews. I don't feel free to go on to the next chapter if I haven't heard your opinion on the present one. Such is the dependence of the author upon the reader. I like your reviews. They show that you are thinking about the story and that is the greatest complement an author can be paid. Thank you so much.

**Avitergirl: **I'm so glad you like it. Please keep reviewing!

**Daughter of Olorin: **When I go to write a story on the movie I make it my job to notice everything. Jareth always keeps a certain distance from Sarah. It comes in very handy to notice these kinds of things. It allows you to analyze the reason behind it within the confines of the story. And about Jareth being touched by holding Emily—I consider that even though Jareth is certainly not human and seems to lack the usual set of emotions there are specific moments when he is more than human. Think of the times when he was holding Toby and dancing around the throne room. Jareth is by no means an inhuman monster just—shall we say complex? Thanks for reading again.

**lanthe: **Don't worry about being repetitive it's a boost to the author's ego. Like most writers I like I suffer from low self confidence. Even though I am having a public reading at Borders in a few weeks time I can't help but wonder if my writing is good enough for it. I battle with self doubt a lot which is one of the reasons I wrote this chapter. I hope you liked it.


	13. I Have Immortal Longings

Disclaimer: I don't own nothing!

_**I Have Immortal Longings **_

**By**

**Jaffee Leeds**

_For us to know God completely he must make us immortal._

_-- Joseph Joubert_

"Well, hell. What am I supposed to do now?" I announced to the world at large.

I stood before the massive entrance of the castle and was having a staring contest with the colossal doors. The doors were winning. Standing at over twenty feet in height and about eight feet across, they were solid oak and bound with steel and two immense chains that anchored them to the castle itself. There were no handles per say but two large metal rings hung a little above my head. They were handles for giants which I was not.

Not having much choice, I rubbed my hands together and gave it a shove. Nothing. I shoved harder. Nothing but a slight groan came from the unperturbed portal. Never say never, so I tried again and again using somewhat different methods; the unfortunate thing was the outcome never differed. I was sweaty, out of breath and had splinters in my hands.

"Hell," I said and leaned my back against the stout panels to catch my breath.

I suppose I shouldn't have anticipated an easy road. Even if Jareth told me to come to him that didn't mean he wasn't going to make it as hellish as possible for me to get there. I picked the splinters out of my hands as painlessly as I could without a tweezers. The sunlight was fading as night drew on. Soon the stars began to appear overhead and stub the dark blue sky with pinpoints of white light.

The breeze had cooled and curled around the castle gently. I leaned against the door and wished that I could just sit there for hours. I needed sleep, I needed food and I didn't want to be alone. Even the company of my subconscious had been better than total solitude. Wishing for soap and water, I pushed myself up and faced the gates again. As I did, the starlight quietly struck the doors and revealed the red grains of magic throughout the entire construction.

"Holy cow!" my gasp echoed off the door and away into the night. If it was made up of the magic of the Labyrinth then I would be able to manipulate it.

Raising both hands, I moved toward the door. Again nothing. Swearing softly, I dropped my hands and concentrated on the wood grain where I could see the traces of magic. If this was going to be another staring contest I was sure as hell gonna win it. I had done it before, I would do it again. As I stared I thought of the oubliette, the crystal in the ballroom, my arm and the wound Jareth had forced me to heal. I could do this.

Licking my lips, I had barely moved more then a pinkie when a crack shattered the doors. Metal snapped and stone broke as the gates went hurtling back into the castle. Stone dust rained as the wooden panels snapped and broke as they crashed into the walls of the castle halls. The chains struck them a second later and fell in jangling heaps, dragging hunks of fortifications with them as they grated against the sandstone floor.

Dust and broke bits of rock rained in the now empty doorway as I stared open-mouthed and dumb struck at the gapping hole that remained. Realizing just what level of overcompensation I was capable of, I couldn't help but grin. It was like something out of a movie. Shielding my head from any debris that might fall, I ducked through the doorway.

Instantly I was aware of a swell of danger in my direction. My hands shot up of themselves and before I could even see clearly, several crystals exploded in burst of glittering magic. I saw death in every curving shard as they fell at my feet. Okay, so maybe everything wasn't so peachy after all.

"You expected something else?" a voice, now familiar, spoke from across the echoing corridor.

He was there, waiting for me. He stood with easy grace upon a low dais and before peculiar kind of throne. It was wide and round with skinny arms that reached around to encircle the person seated. It seemed to fit the whole appearance of the bizarre that reigned throughout the visible citadel. There was little or no decoration of any kind on the walls and the floor was little more then smoothed sandstone. He trailed my scrutinizing gaze with amusement.

"You expected something else?" he spoke again.

"Something –grander," I admitted, "Plain doesn't seem to be your style."

He merely grinned revealing his sharply pointed teeth in a brilliant smile. His eyes were studying mine as I edged forward, they were searching for something in them but whatever it was he didn't seem to find it as he looked away with a gesture toward the throne, "I suppose you have come to claim this?"

"The throne? No, I didn't come here for that. I came because…." I trailed off. How was I supposed to tell him I came to save him and the Labyrinth? It wasn't as if I had terribly good reasons for either, did I?

"Because Heggle came to you and your mother," he finished.

"It's Hoggle," I corrected moving passed the series of halls, "You knew?"

"I always know," he said with perfectly sincerity, "Always."

"Then why haven't you done something to save the Labyrinth?" I asked. I stopped at the feet of the dais and looked up at him, "It seems like it's worth it."

"Emily," he said, stepping off the dais, hands on hips, "You should know that it is possible to have too much of a good thing. Even the best of us grow weary."

"Excuse me," I scuffed. I mimicked his position and planted my hands on my hips, "But that sounds like a crappy explanation to me. I think we both know enough about each other to know we would need greater reason for letting an entire world die."

"A greater motivation?" his eyes flashed with emotion and I felt a pulse ripple through the air, "I have one."

"What?"

Instead of answering, he turned his right hand over and small crystal nestled in his palm, "Tell me Emily, what do you think of my Labyrinth?"

"Uh?" I was taken aback by the subject change.

"Angels and demons, saviors and tyrants," he murmured, "What is the Labyrinth to you?"

"I don't—" My shut my mouth and stared at the creature that was my father. He wasn't asking for some easy, tossed off answer. He really wanted to know what I felt about his world.

"I—can't begin to describe it. I was afraid of it when I first came. I didn't know just how it or you would react; especially when I found myself dumped into an oubliette." He dropped his gaze for a brief second as if in shame, "It's beautiful and terrifying all at once. There is so much good in it. I can't understand it, I know, but I want to the longer I'm here. I could easily love it."

I looked up into his eyes and saw he had moved closer as I had spoken. He bent over me slightly as you would a small child and in his eyes I saw—relief. It was as if my words had lifted a heavy burden from him, as if all the care in the world rolled away. He held the crystal up to the light and turned it slowly, gently so I could see all Labyrinth reflected in its gleaming depths.

"Do you want it?" he asked softly.

"What will happen if I do?" I breathed. My heart was hammering in my chest almost painfully. Faces were flashing through my mind, Mom, Hoggle, Sybil and Bevel—Abner.

"You will do what you set out to do," he explained, "You will save your friends and their home. You will be able to rescue those you care for and you will even be capable of bringing your mother back into the Underground if you wish. IF you take this crystal you will have everything you want or will want."

"You're not just going to give me the crystal –without asking for something in return?" I said backing away from him slightly, "That's not very much like you. What do you want? My soul or dreams or something? Adoration?"

His eyes, hard and angry, followed me to where I stood. Following with slowly menacing steps he said, "Nothing, I asked you for nothing in return. All I ask is that you accept the crystal and become the ruler of the Labyrinth."

"Will I have to kidnap children?" I blurted, "I can't do that. I won't."

"You can do whatever you want," he said annoyance tingeing his voice. He was rushing too fast, questions were hurdled at me too quickly. It wasn't like him and there was no need, we had all the time in the world. I suddenly realized how weary he looked. Huge dark circles rested under his eyes and his posture was stooped and less defiant than it had been when I came into the castle, "Take the crystal."

"No tricks?"

"None."

"You really want me to take it?"

"Yes."

"Tell me one thing," I stalled, "Why should I trust you?"

He allowed the crystal to roll back into his hand as he laughed in disbelief, "Must it always be a trust concern with humans? Have I ever given you reason not to trust me?"

"Not that I know of," I hedged, "How do I know that I won't turn into some nasty if I take that crystal? How do I know I won't die?"

He looked as if I had slapped him. His jaw twitched with repressed anger and I knew I had said too much.

"Never mind," I said, "That was stupid. I'll take it if you want me too."

"It would be for the best," he said calmly but though his tone was controlled I could hear that I had managed to hurt him. He opened his palm and produced the crystal again.

As I reached out to grasp it from Jareth's hand, I began to shake. It was as if I had a sudden attack of the chills and my hand shook the nearer it came to the orb. Jareth seemed to be holding his breath the closer I came to plucking the crystal up. His eyes were on my face, silently watching as if memorizing my face As if he would never see me again. I stopped, my fingers hovering inches from the bright sphere.

"What—what will happen to you if I take it?"

Surprised tainted his eyes for a second before he spoke, "Does it really matter?"

"Yes, it matters to me," I whispered, "You're my father."

He took my up raised hand briefly in his and offered a weak smile, "Thank you."

"But what—"

"I die."

"What!"

Before I could react Jareth slammed my hand down on the crystal. A jolt of energy surged through me; where our hands surrounded the globe light grew and grew until it radiated in sharp jags of lightening that seared the castle walls, floors and ceiling. Where it struck either Jareth or me it was absorbed into our bodies. I couldn't speak and I could barely struggle as wave after wave of power surged through my veins. My heart was beating wildly in my chest skipping beats, stopping, starting again and pumping blood swiftly around my body.

My eyes were blazing with white light and when I looked at Jareth I could see he was wilting rapidly. His skin paled of all color and he was leaning on me for support as the light was drained from him into me. Our hands still clasped the crystal jointly although his fingers were loosening bit by bit. I could feel rhythm of the connection sapping Jareth of his life as I was overflowing with it.

And then I knew.

With all the strength I could gather I broke his hold over my hand and the crystal. We both fell to the floor with the shock of it. Jareth's eyes slid shut but his breathing continued in an erratic pattern as the last of the crystal was absorbed into my hand. Crouching beside Jareth, I felt as if every atom of my body was alive and on fire with power, magic, ready to explode with life. As the potential grew inside me I saw Jareth slipping away into darkness and my shaking increased.

"You s-silly—f-fool," I gasped. I trembled with energy, I knew in that moment that I could command anything in the Underground and it would happen. But all I wanted was dying.

Kneeling to steady myself, I cupped my hands together and pulled all the power and magic I could touch into another orb. All the darkness and light, the fabric of life and existence poured through my fingers; everything we are, everything we know, everything we love. As the magic rushed into my hands I felt and heard all the voices and feelings of the past flooding in colliding with my consciousness and blending with it before gliding into the crystal.

_"But what no one knew was the king of the Goblins had fallen in love with the girl and he had given her certain powers."_

"_Someone please take me away from this awful place!"_

"_Such a pity."_

"_It's not fair!"_

"_You say that so often…"_

"_I have to have my brother back."_

"_Fear me…"_

"_Through dangers untold…"_

"_And I will give you everything that you want."_

"…_and hardships unnumbered..." _

"_Love me..."_

"_My will is as strong as your's..."_

"_And I will be your slave."_

A great silence fell as I knelt poised as I gathered all that was left to myself. I released everything of myself that was one with the Labyrinth and held the beautiful crystal before my eyes. It was perfect. It was right.

"_She's going to say the words!"_

Slipping the crystal into Jareth's hand, I closed the near lifeless fingers around it. Instantly color returned to his face and as I forced the power and glory and beauty into him hand I felt it bleed dry from me. I lay down slowly so my head rested on his shoulder and closed my eyes. I was almost exhausted. Bringing my mouth close to his ear, I whispered,

"You have no power over me."

The last of the crystal disappeared into his palm so only my hand simply lay in his and slowly his fingers closed over mine. I was so tired and all I wanted was sleep—sleep. I felt Jareth stir beside me, a gasping shudder and relief flooded me. He would live. My subconscious reminded me to breathe.

_Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale…inhale……exhale…_

_**JarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJareth**_

**Author's Note:** Okay, guys, here's the deal. I really need to hear from you. I need to know if you want me to keep posting or if everyone's tired with the story. I have fifteen people on alert but only four people review most of the time. I know some people never review but for those of you who do and just haven't I need to know I should finish this. Please let me know what you think. I re-worked this chapter about seven times before I finished so…throw me a bone here. Thanks for reading anyway.

Jaffee Leeds


	14. The Best of Dreams The Best of Realities

**Disclaimer: **Not mine

**The Best of Dreams**

**The Best of Realities**

I knew.

Almost immediately, I knew.

My eyes had barely stopped, my breathing hardily creased, when I _**knew.**_

I was suddenly sitting in my favorite spot in the park near our house. The shallow creek gurgled by, the grass tickled my palms and the ground was firm and hard beneath my hands. The sun was so bright that where it sparkled off the water, I was forced to turn away. As I did, I saw him sitting on a bench watching me calmly.

"You look strange," I said. My voice was controlled and low, but I felt as if the world around me priced up its ears to listen.

Jareth looked down at the blue jeans, plaid shirt and fisherman's vest he was wearing, "Well, my dear, it's your doing."

"Mine?" I said dumbly. I felt slow and stupid as if I had just woken from a long, foggy sleep, "How?"

"Don't you know yet?" he shook his pale gold head. Standing he strode over and held out a hand, hauling me to my feet. Turning me to face the creek, "Do you see it now?"

I stared. The opposite edge of the creek was blank. The sparkling water flowed into nothingness, and beyond the bench Jareth had been sitting on it was the same. Nothing. Yet every detail of the fragment of park was presented in sharp relief. I could smell the dirt and damp from the bank and the fresh air that blew around us.

"I'm doing this," I said wonderingly.

"Yes," he answered, "You are creating what you wish to see and ignoring what you don't wish to see. From my clothing-- down to your death."

"Show me then," I answered.

He waved a hand and I saw he was once more in the courtly grab he usually wore. He gestured toward the further side of the creek and I saw the fragments of nothing turn, shift and solidify into a full picture. No, a reality.

It was the corridor outside the throne room where I had confronted Jareth. My body was lying crumpled on the floor, my head on Jareth's shoulder; my hand in his.

"I died! I'm dead," I gasped.

"You died," Jareth agreed with a hint of amusement in his tone. He turned my face to his and smiled, "But you are not dead."

"Tell me everything," I asked anxiously, "I'm tried of living in the dark."

He slid his arms around me and cradled my head against his shoulder in an unconscious mime of my dead self. He stroked my hair for a moment as if trying to clarify his thoughts; then he spoke.

"You were never expected. When you mother and I wed, I never thought a child would be born of our union without my purposeful intent to create a child. You must understand by now that I create this world, this place and all that in them is--by my will."

"Yes."

"But I did not plan you. Like a shooting star you blazed into my world and vanished with your mother just as swiftly. What Sarah did not know and what I had not foreseen was the power you were granted through us. My love for your mother and her love in turn combined in you to create a potential that nearly equaled my own." He paused and went on, "You, as you grew, drew heavily upon both worlds; earth and the Underground. They were life and existence

"I never knew," I said, "How could I?"

"How did you know how to breathe when you were born? Who taught you to cry when you were unhappy?" he explained smiling, "You never considered it because it came naturally to you. Since you have never known what it is to be fully human, you never knew you were more than that."

I shook my head, pushing a little apart as if to display my plain visage to him, "But I wasn't more. I was never more. I couldn't even figure out who you were or what I was. It took me forever to figure out the Labyrinth."

"Don't you see, Emily?" Jareth smoothed my hair out of my eyes, "If you were only human you would never have perceived the world beyond earth. You wouldn't have known yourself to be limited in anyway. When you came to the Labyrinth, you took control instantly. You freed Abner and you came after me with anger and confidence; confidence humans would typically not have."

"Mom has it --she's always had it."

His eyes softened slightly at this, "That was why I loved her and won her and why she became your mother," he explained, "Only she could have done it."

"Then I get it from her," I looked up at the dual colored eyes that smiled down on me, "What do I get from you?"

He grew serious and somber and when he spoke then entire foundation of the castle shook.

"Power. Ultimate justice, perfect understanding, immortality and ---an innate sense of style."

We laughed and as we did the color of the world brightened. The green sprang into life, the blue settled like a mantle and red poppies exploded on the bank near us.

"You see?" he laughed at my expression, "I have given you everything--everything that we are, everything we know, everything we hope and love and dream about."

Jareth twirled me around, lifting me into the air where a yellow sun soared into being. Touching back to the earth, I ran out of his arms and suddenly being seized with a desire to experience everything, I splashed into the creek. The water was crisp and cold. I cupped my hands and caught the bright water up, drinking it down. It was icy cold, clear and instantly satisfying. I splashed the water over my face and found it mixed with salt tears I didn't know I was crying. They fell hot and fast, and dropped into my hands like diamonds. Turning them over in my fingers, I knew that's what they were.

Folding my hands over them, I cupped them to my breast. I raised my eyes to where Jareth crouched upon the bank. His cloak had settled around him like dark plumage but his face was kind and loving.

I remembered something and said, "You tried to kill yourself."

"I tried to save you," he corrected, "I didn't want you experience death if it could be avoided."

Letting the glistening diamonds fall into the water, I swished my hands through the waves and considered, "You wanted me to save the Labyrinth."

"My powerful daughter was drawing so strongly upon the Underground that it was dying. I allowed it to die. I couldn't refuse my daughter."

"But I died," I stood and accepted the hand he again offered. My skin and clothing was instantly dry and instead of the grubby pajamas, I was wearing clean clothing from my closet back home, "I am dead in that world."

"You live," Jareth said fiercely. He pulled me through to the castle and we stood over the frozen images of our bodies, "Your human body died when you were freed from it to become one with the power of the Labyrinth. While you were within that body you were like a wild thing caged. The strain upon the Labyrinth was so great because your humanity was in the way."

"So I am not human anymore?" I whispered horror thrilling along my spine, "I loved being a human."

"And in some ways you always will. The memories of that life will remain with you for eternity, and they will only grow stronger with the passage of time," Jareth explained. He stood to his full height and for the first time I felt more of an understanding and link with him then ever before. Here was my equal, my point of understanding, my likeness.

"I am--what you are," I said slowly. I stood beside him and the next moment we were high above the Labyrinth.

Far below, the world was small and broken, bleeding and dying. The grief on Jareth's face was clear and I felt the love he bore for every living thing within the realm of the Underground. It was so powerful; I was staggered for a moment.

He held out a long fingered hand, "Raise the world with me?"

And the stars sang and the sky blossomed with light.

**AN: **Sorry for the long wait, but I had a rough bout of Mono. I know this is short but it kind of has to be. There will be more chapters, but probably not more than one. All questions will be answered, but if there is anything you want to know especially please let me know what they are. Love you guys!

Jaffee


	15. We Are Such Stuff As Dreams Are Made On

Disclaimer: Not Mine

**Chapter Fifteen **

**The Stuff of Dreams**

"We are such stuffAs dreams are made on and our little lifeIs rounded with a sleep..."

Andy McArthur was riding his tricycle down the sidewalk at a furious rate. His red hair was sticking up all over his round head and freckles sprinkled across his turned up nose. His tongue appeared between his teeth as he prepared to round the curve at the corner. There was an uncertain danger in going around this curve. It was sloped just enough that you might fall into the street if you hit it wrong. Since Andy wasn't allowed in the street, he was almost hoping this would happen, and that the land of the forbidden would somehow become accessible.

But just as he swung around the curve and the left wheel of his tricycle began to lift into the air, two people stepped out of nowhere and the girl caught him and pushed him gently back.

"You want to be careful," she said, "You could have fallen."

Andy said nothing but gave her the same half worried stare children give to grown ups they don't know. She smiled at him for a second and said, "I know that's what you wanted, but really, Andy, the street isn't a place to play."

He still said nothing and was filled with a desire to run crying home to his mother. The girl had known what he was going to do and she knew his name and—her eyes, which had seemed to see right into his little noggin, were a pair disconcerting; one brown, one blue. Sensing his fear, she backed up and stood beside the man she had appeared with.

"Well, get along sonny," the man said in a slightly commanding tone, "Don't you know it's rude to stare?"

At that Andy zoomed away on his tricycle as fast as his cubby legs could peddle.

"Did you have to be so brusque?" Emily asked as they turned and walked toward the small yellow house where Sarah lived.

"Look at it this way, my dear," Jareth answered walking with his hands clasped casually behind his back, "Andrew McArthur will be as safe as houses. He won't try to do anything dangerous or illegal for most of his life. He'll drive the speed limit and signal would he's passing. And he'll never speak to a mysterious looking stranger again. His parents would thank us if they knew."

Emily wrinkled her nose, "And people will have that reaction to us all the time won't they?"

"Not if we don't want them to see us as we really are," Jareth said nodding to a woman who was watering her garden. She nodded pleasantly to him but stared at Emily with suspicious eyes, "You see? she saw me as nothing more than a neighbor going for an agreeable evening walk. But since you were not consciously trying to escape notice, she saw you as the shifty character you are."

"I'm not shifty!" Emily protested, "I might be many things, but I've never been called shifty."

"Perhaps not, but you do look shifty to the untrained human eye. You might want to do something about that before you go to your mother," Jareth paused before the quaint yellow house, "You'd better go in alone."

"Why? Don't you want to see her?" Emily was suddenly wearing jeans and a hideous argyle sweater, "Jareth?"

Jareth's expression changed and there was a mournful weariness around his eyes and mouth, "Yes," he whispered head bowed, "I want to see her. I want to see her always. I want to hear her breathe and listen to her heart beat; I want to hold her close and never let go. I would keep her with me always –But all of things, she is the one thing I cannot have. For me to live is to desire her."

Emily dropped her eyes at this admission of secret pain. She touched his arm gently, "I'll be right back."

He nodded and waited on the sidewalk as his daughter walked soundlessly through the door and into the house. Everything was quiet except for the ticking of the clock over the fireplace and the gentle click of china from the kitchen. Emily paused in the living room for a moment and stared at the familiar scene as if she hadn't seen it in eons. The same country blue furniture and decorations were scattered around the room; the same slightly wrinkled curtains hung in the windows and the glass was still smudged from where Sybil and Bevel had pressed their noses to the glass.

Emily touched the well-known walls as she walked by. She felt as if she knew them well, but the feel, the sense of them was totally new and strange. She heard the clink of glasses in the kitchen and made her way toward the sunny room at the end of a short hallway.

Sarah was standing at the sink, her hair pulled into a high ponytail, tendrils of graying hair in her eyes. She was wet to the elbows as she washed the dishes in the sink; a customary sight that Emily had grown up with. Emily wasn't sure if she had made a sound or if Sarah finely attuned spirit felt her there, but she turned quite suddenly, a glass plate in one hand. She gasped and the dish fell—Emily moved in a blink and caught the item before it shattered on the linoleum. Mother and daughter face to face, Sarah drinking in the sight of her only child.

"Hi mom," Emily said weakly.

Sarah said nothing for a long and breathless moment. Words trembled on her lips for seconds as she stood up right and accepted the dish fro her daughter's hands.

"You look like you father," she said suddenly, "I never noticed before—how much."

"How are you?" Emily found words suddenly lacking.

"I've been worried sick about you for days," Sarah's eyes filled with tears, "When you didn't return and when I didn't go to the Labyrinth—my mind was---I thought I'd go crazy with worry."

Emily enveloped her mother in a tight hug, "It's alright—I'm alright now," she assured her mother, "I'm just fine."

"And your father? What about the Labyrinth?"

"It all saved mom," Emily pulled away and smiled broadly, "It's more beautiful than you could ever imagine. The land is green and budding with new flowers and fruits all over. It's like a new world after a famine. You'd never recognize it."

"I'm so glad," Sarah squeezed her daughter close again. Emily smiled into her mother's shoulder and breathed in the homey scent.

"You're not staying—are you?" she asked quietly.

Emily pulled away again, her smile slipping slightly, "I can't stay now. Everything's changed and they need me."

"I need you," Sarah emphasized, "You're my only child."

"I'll always be there for you, Mom, whenever you need me. All you have to do is call," Emily explained, "I would never leave you for good. I couldn't, that isn't in my nature."

"And you're father won't stop you?" Sarah asked worriedly.

"No," Emily said seriously, "He will never stop me from coming."

Emily took her mother's hands and swung them gaily, "I want to take you back to see it, and all your old friends have been dying to see you there again. Hoggle is going crazy over the gardens that I've surrounded the castle with and Ludo—is—well, he is happy, I know that much. I still have to meet the others but I've received messages from all of them and I just know that –what's wrong?"

As Emily had launched happily into her explanations, Sarah's smiled had slowly disappeared until it was gone completely. Finally, she had pulled away from her daughter and walked back to the sink.

"What is it?" Emily repeated.

"You have to understand, Emily," Sarah scrubbed each dish vigorously, "When I left the Labyrinth it was for a very good reason. I can't go back now after all these years."

"But what the good things? What the beauty and the joy—even if you had to leave Jareth, how could you leave behind your friends?" Emily said, "How could you not let me have those joys?"

Sarah turned tear soaked eyes to her daughter, "I don't—please—I've tried for so long to forget them. Let me forget them—it's easier for me."

Emily stepped away; hurt. She brought her hand and resting in the palm was a perfect, clear orb. Sarah gasped when she saw it, a light of remembrance illuminating her face.

"Will you take this? To remember me by?" Emily held it up, "It is all the years we spent together. You'll never forget a thing."

Sarah looked longing at the orb for a moment and then shook her head, "I don't need that to remember you by. I have all of that here," she touched her heart, "I just want you to stay."

"You know I can't;" Emily answered, "Now you have to understand me. I love this place and you and Uncle Toby and everything I had and have—but it isn't enough for me. If I came back today it would never be enough and you know it wouldn't. I know you had to make your choices and that they were hard. My choice isn't easy either because I know that it hurts you—but I'd die if I stayed."

"I know," Sarah said in tearful resignation, "I just hoped."

"I'll come home every week like I always do. Imagine that I'm just away at school," Emily smiled, "I'll be learning a lot now and I'm pretty sure that this kind of education isn't offered in collage."

"What about the rest of the family? What do I tell them when they ask about you?"

"If you need me, call me," Emily repeated. She felt the tug of Jareth calling her mentally and she smiled one last time, "I have to go."

"Wait," Sarah touched her arm, "Before you go—let me see you."

"I—" and Emily understood. She dropped her arms to her sides and the plain and average sheath fell away. She stood in the full glory of her being without the hampering of human visage.

"How do I look?" Emily asked; her dual colored eyes twinkling out from under messy dark bangs. The rest of her long hair was pulled back and braided in a strange homage to her humanity. Sarah still saw her daughter, but she saw her without imperfections or blemishes. She wore a long sweeping coat like her father did but without the pretentious glamour. In truth, Emily represented the best of both them in a way that Sarah was surprised to find.

"You're beautiful," she answered.

"I love you," Emily said hugging her mother again.

"I love you too," Sarah gasped; crying hard, "Come back soon."

"I will," Emily straightened up, "Bevel and Sybil are already back home so you don't need to worry about them."

"They were no trouble, really," Sarah answered laughing through her tears, "It was the best of the old days when they were around."

"Goodbye," Emily winked away leaving behind a scattering of glitter all over the floor.

Sarah knelt and shifted through it with her fingers, the rainbow bits twinkling and shimmering under her hands. She wiped the tears away from her face and she swept up every bit. Going to her room, she opened a bottom drawer and removed an old glass mason jar full of active and gleaming bits. Removing the lid, she poured the fresh fragments inside. Closing the lid with a twist, Sarah set the jar on the window sill where the light refracted through the glass and scattered the rainbow colors all over her room. She flopped down on the bed, stomach down.

Then Sarah Williams leaned her head on her hands, closed her eyes and dreamed.

_**JarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmilyJarethSarahEmily**_

**Review Responses:**

**Yodeladyhoo**Here; are all the loose ends tied up now? Or do you want a squeal? Thanks so much for reading and reviewing this. Sorry this was so late in coming. I had Mono for the second time.

**Notwritten** And I like you.

**Avitargirl** Oh, they're getting along a mite better don't you think?

**JainaZekk621:** Thanks for much for reading it. I'm glad you liked it. Should I do more?

**Daughter of ****Olorin** Thank you so much for all the encouraging words that you have given me over the time of this story. I can't tell you how much it means to me. I have just finished the first draft of my first real novel and I'm running into my first real editing stage. Wish me luck!


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